Fear, Redux
I occasionally have what I call "the terrors." I used the term unexplained in a brief email to a cancer-survivor friend the other day and she knew exactly what I was talking about—the fear of not surviving. I used to think I wasn't afraid of death. Hah. It's more complicated than I realized.Ironically, on Sunday night, while I was wailing and shaking in St. Al's arms, my sister's dearest friend died of cancer. The universe knows. I wish it would share its secrets.
I think everyone feels that way when they get the diagnosis. I know I certainly did as I had the same thing that killed my mother. It's ok to fall apart at times.
ReplyDeleteI can bet you did, Debbie. To have the same thing that killed your mother. I thought of you so often. And here you are, alive and well and healthy as can be. Thank you for being a wonderful example!
DeleteKatie, wail as often and as loud as you'd like. It gets rid of all the negative energy so the positive can take over.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't thought of it that way, Sharon. Thank you.
Delete"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do. " ~ Eleanor Roosevelt
ReplyDeleteWhat doesn't kills you makes you stronger. Thank you, Paris.
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