So many things to say… and somehow so few words. We are in some sort of a routine now; we know what chemo looks (and feels) like for the most part, and how often it occurs, and the ups and downs of how Sean reacts. I know what days I need to take off to be there for infusions, and so I’m mentally back in the swing of daily routines. Cancer is part of our life now, and so… now it’s part of our life. We are just doing what we need to do.
Cancer is a filter. Like, on a camera lens. I’m sure people in other serious situations can relate as well- I’m sure it’s not just our circumstance. But for us- for me- life is filtered with a certain shade of cancer. It colors simple small talk, from what we are doing for the holidays to what we did over the weekend (cancelled our flights to Virginia, and helped shave my husband’s head). It shades my energy levels while at work, groceries, social schedules, the calendar in the kitchen, even the frequency of my handwashing. It’s still not the picture itself, just… a filter.
A cancer filter doesn’t take away from the photo. The picture’s beauty isn’t tainted at all, nor does the filter overshadow the actual image. Actually… it almost enhances it. The dark lines are thicker, the shading heavier. But the color isn’t faded. The color, the light display more depth and meaning.
All at once, heavy and vibrant.
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness does not overcome it.”
Those words were written by a disciple of Jesus. He was actually speaking about Jesus, referring to him as the ‘light.’
I can’t think of anything more true.