gently down the stream

it's one of those days when there is so much to say and write but none of it fits together. hem's gently down the stream captures how i felt for the first two days of this week with it's surreal, dreamy, solemn goodness as i reflected and somberly celebrated the joy of a perfect sunday evening. for two days i floated gently down the stream, not with a great smile or a stupid grin. there were no expressions and there are no words to write, no tone or voice that can capture the goodness i felt deep within.

thursday was filled with thoughts of bravery in the heat of weakness as i went to chemo with a friend. we were there all day and i saw many souls in and out of the infusion room, ones who have fought with more tenacity and bravery than i can ever truly imagine. there is so much to learn from those who have to walk this path, fight this battle. one lady we met will be forever etched on my memory; she walks this life with her head held high and the knowledge that her cancer will never go away. she was on her fourth type of chemo treatment for one of the rarest kinds of cancer. she is a true amazon. six foot tall. in her late fifties, early sixties. broad, strong shoulders. bright dress. adorned in jewels and high heels. feminine and unmoved. courageous. her comfort during chemo? her husband's picture by her chair. i was indifferent to the picture; but to her his face was love, acceptance, comfort, joy, a blanket of peace.

i am still processing it all-- there is so much to think on when in the chemo infusion room, so much to think about on perfect evenings. another loved one has to face cancer every day. am i helping her, learning from her? i also considered the brevity of life; our turn on this earthly playground is not that long. will it make a difference when i go? have i made a difference? will i ever have what my amazon friend has? i've been waking up every morning at 5:30 this week (not by choice!) turning those thoughts into prayers.