March 9, 2010
The willows in the wetlands look ghostly, wrapped in a heavy fog that has settled over Sanctuary. Recent rains removed much of the remaining snow and yesterday’s first appearance of a red-winged blackbird made spring’s arrival more official than the date on the calendar. How quickly plants long buried in snow assert themselves again! The grasses are bright green, the daffodils and iris have pushed their blades two to three inches up from the ground, and all sorts of tiny leaves are appearing. Yesterday, the geese were moving across the sky in great numbers as they took advantage of winds high above. Today, everything is still – we are all waiting for the sun’s return.
After five years, I am facing the reality of the disease awakening after a long time of it “simmering”, a term used by the oncologist. Now pain has become my most intimate companion, my appetite comes and goes, and my mind is trying to deal with the entity of this person it occupies. Since we have put into place the pieces of pain management a long time ago, the only thing that we can do is increase the dosage of medications, and even then, there is always the presence of “hurting”. I am thinking of death again, and reflecting on how much I wish to hold on to this life with all of the dear people that are mine to know and love. Of course, there is Alphie, too, and the birds and creatures of Sanctuary. It feels as if the pain has grabbed my life and begun to change the essence of it, perhaps like the tree given over to bonsai, where it will be trimmed and tied and reshaped into something entirely different than was originally intended.
Since Biblical times, believers in God have called for surcease from pain. Many of the psalms have very descriptive verses about the ills and difficulties of life, and in countless words written since then, people have taken on the subject of “Why?” All sorts of conclusions have come and gone. For some, it has fallen into the pit of punishment for sin, for others, it has been described as a tool for burning away the dross and leaving only the purified self in its place. There are many other thoughtful commentaries on the matter, but I have yet to find anything that answers the question, and it joins the great body of “why’s” that we pick up, examine, and finally put back down, unanswered. Perhaps the knowing of a thing doesn’t change it at all, so I conclude that it is the exhortation to “live by faith” that is my resting place. Ultimately, it is God alone who will take me where I must go.