One of my favorite poems displays my life so clearly:
"Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold,
Her early leafs a flower;
But only so an hour,
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day,
Nothing golden can stay." -Robert Frost
Golden moments don't last and that's why they are golden. That is what I believe the lesson is in this poem and that is why I believe it suits my life so well. When I think about gold, I think about its brilliance and luster, but also the rareness of gold. My husband claims that I am brilliant. He sometimes has to reference a dictionary or ask me what the meaning of a word is when reading my blogs. He says he wants to figure out precisely what I am saying and then of course, I tend to lose my patience with him. He says that I am so intelligent in fact, that I can argue with anyone long enough to clear out an entire room. I should've been an attorney. I could seriously argue why one fork would shine brighter than another and win regardless of who I was arguing with. I remember when my husband and I first began dating.
I had asked him who he had voted for. "Al Gore." I almost threw up in my mouth. I was fuming mad at him. I almost didn't marry him for this fact alone. When I asked him why he voted for him, "I don't really know," was his response. Okay...look, if you are going to vote for someone, you better have a clear answer as to why you voted for that person. This is our country and although our votes really do not matter as much as the government would like for you to think that they do, it is important to know why you prefer one candidate over the other. If you cannot provide a solid answer, then you have no business voting. I am far from brilliant...opinionated yes, brilliant, no.
Despite the fact that I am faithful most of the time, I do often ponder the question over and over again to myself, "Where is God?" When a wife in her prime and the mother of three can be forced to suffer such a grueling disease rather than the glorious freedom to digest all the great things about life without any interference: Where is God?; and every time I had the same answer, I don't know. But when I think about it further and realize I was never supposed to be able to carry children at all, and I then look at my three perfect miracles, I realize...there's God. My body did battle throughout each of these pregnancies, but I won each time (even though I had to have c-sections all three times). And every time I lay my eyes on Kevin, who's endless, tireless, unstoppable dedication to me remains constant and his resolve to love me until "Death do us part"- again I say, "There's God."
Throughout my suffering, I have realized what people are capable of; the goodness of people that exists in everyone flourished during my time of great need, Kevin's time of need, and Damion, Kaitlyn, and Tristan's time of need. It is always important for us to remember the goodness in people in a world of such negative. I am proud and humbled by the people that have continued to stand by and support me and my family because they embrace all of the qualities of good and amazing human beings....because in the end, it is important to remember that standing together as a people, a human race, we can do amazing things and that is what I see in my supporters and it will never be forgotten by my family.
I would also like to be remembered as having a predominance of courage over timidity who, with the help of Kevin, saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw disease and tried to stop it. I am a loving wife and a doting mother. I would like to be an example of strength in the human spirit and the endless bounds that the spirit can stretch. The goal of life, the goal of anybody's life, in fact the only real goal in all of our lives, is to leave this world a better place. To create a lasting impression that you were there, that you made a real difference, to touch lives, to love and to be loved. Every single day is a gift. Act accordingly.
The kids and I speak about death occasionally (yes, I know...a very morbid subject). More recently we spoke about its permanence and I assured them that they could still have a happy life even if that life does not include my physical presence. I even tried using a metaphor. I explained that there were several different ways to go to Wal-Mart, one using the main road, and one using several back-roads. I told them to think of Wal-Mart as happiness (okay, so it's a very capitalistic metaphor) and that there are many roads to happiness. They may have to shift paths when I die or rely on someone, like their dad or their nana, to steady them along the way, "But you will find happiness again," I promised.
I do not think that Katie and Tristan found this metaphor to be very convincing. My impending death is harder on Katie than it is on anyone else...and I only think that is because she wears her emotions so openly (just like her mama). She cries whenever we speak about my illness. She refuses to do ANYTHING without me. This is why CTCA is so good for her. It gets her away from my suffering for a little while.
I have decided that I am going to start putting some things back for the children so that Kevin can give them to them as gifts on their birthdays. I am also going to write them letters to open for when I am gone. When a woman is expecting, there are a number of rituals that anticipate and celebrate the blessed event of birth; picking a nursery theme, having a baby shower, washing the newborn clothing, taking childbirth classes, and preparing the nursery. By the time the baby has arrived, mama is ready as she is ever going to be (no-one is really ready for a life-changing event are they?). But, there are no rituals for dying.
The birthday gifts are a great idea....I don't want something purchased, I want something that solely belonged to me. And for Kevin, I want to have many letters written for him. These blogs will also serve as a memory for them should they ever need advice about life. When I go to Myrtle Beach, I am going to collect shells for my mother, and get something for my father. I think it is important that they do not feel left behind, either.
I wonder why we have no rituals surrounding death that involves the dying person? Tim McGraw suggested skydiving and Rocky Mountain Climbing but I am not quite up for that physically. Is death just too individual to come up with a selection of rituals or are we so afraid of death that we elect to deny the reality of it? I'm not sure.
I don't know whether it is my OCD or my control freak tenancies, but I have an intense need to say good-bye on my own terms. I am going to write a good-bye letter to be read at my funeral. I will create a slideshow and the accompanying music that I want played at my funeral. Is that too morbid? I've decided to be cremated and where I want my ashes interred. My grandmother was cremated and I want to be as close to her as I can when I pass away. I want to honor her memory by choosing to cleanse my soul through cremation.
After all, dying is my chance to say good-bye too. It is my opportunity to show others that I loved them and had a richer life for knowing them. And I don't want to let that opportunity pass me by.
Love you all...mean it,
Shanna xoxo
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I'm planning to attend LUNGevity Foundation's National HOPE Summit in Washington, DC, in May - it's a special conference just for lung cancer survivors like me. If I can raise $1000 or more in donations, LUNGevity will cover my travel expenses, including US round-trip transportation and hotel accommodations.
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