These words come from the heart of an humble woman. A good dose of humility is the only obvious blessing I am able to appreciate after three weeks of sickness. What started out as a mean respiratory virus developed into a painful case of pleurisy, probably because I didn’t take more time to recover initially.
Three weeks, however, was just long enough to remind me of the months I spent fighting breast cancer last year and the lessons I learned through the journey.
Beginning some time in January, when I began to feel this incredible lightness of recovery, I went through what I’ve come to describe as my own “Lazarus Experience.” It seemed as if I had risen from the dead, and everything in life was new again.
I celebrated my rebirth and went from worrying about dying to living a life full of joy and endless opportunities.
I looked at my family and friends like I was seeing them for the very first time and was amazed by the beauty of their souls.
I marveled at the world around me and thought about what a magnificent God it took to create it so perfectly.
I observed the interactions of others and was both intrigued and frightened by the power of words to nurture or damage relationships and dreams.
And when I sat down at my computer to write, I wrote like I used to play the piano, touching the keyboard lightly and creating music that floated off the screen toward heaven.
For those wonderful months, I reminded myself of Leonard Lowe, the character played by Robert De Niro in the 1990 movie, “Awakenings.” You may have seen it.
Based on a true story, the movie chronicles a group of catatonic patients brought back to life by an experimental drug for a brief, but shining “awakening.” The scene that has stayed with me all these years is when Leonard, in talking to his neurologist played by Robin Williams, said people had forgotten how to live.
Now I understand the urgency that Leonard felt when he told his doctor that they had to remind people to live every minute and appreciate the gift of life. I, too, had forgotten the joy of living, and having remembered after last year, wanted everyone around me to feel it, too.
I even made of list of “Lessons Learned from Cancer” with the intent of putting them on bookmarks to share with others.
One day last week, when I was feeling particularly bad, I pulled the list out to read again. It brought tears to my eyes as I realized how quickly I had forgotten ó yet again ó what’s most important and what is not.
My upclose and personal look at death had given me valuable insights, and 10 months into my mission to share them, I had to be reminded of what they were.
You really don’t wish you had spent more time at the office.
What you do for a living is not nearly as important as what you do for the living.
People are suffering all around you and need your help, whether it be through a visit, food, a card, a smile or a prayer.
At some point in your life, if you haven’t already, you will experience suffering, too.
Giving thanks to God for each new day makes each new day better.
Taking care of what God has created ó the earth and all its inhabitants ó is a sacred responsibility.
Family and friends are our greatest gifts.
You can never have too many family and friends.
Each new day presents a wonderful opportunity to be a force for good in the world.
Sharing your love and your light will make your heart sing.
And the common song of our hearts can help to heal and transform the world.