‘She never complained.’

I reflect from time to time, on what people say about me, about others, other women and men, as they endure – and yes I did mean to use that word – endure their treatments for cancer. Sometimes they say we are brave, and that we don’t complain.

I’ve never understood the ‘brave’ comment. What’s brave about making decisions involving chemical and drug treatments and surgery or multiple surgeries? Or more tests? Or more observations over time to see what happens?

What’s brave about agreeing to take a drug that has a statistical chance of increasing your life span? What’s brave about agreeing to surgery, to anaesthesia, to the potential complications, and possible side-ffects of all of them?

What’s brave about any of that?

It’s simply a choice, and not a choice that anyone would ever want to make. It’s not like choosing a new outfit, or where to go on holiday, or even what kind of an occupation you would like to pursue. It’s a choice from a lesser, more complicated, and sometimes painful set of options. A choice weighted with life and death statistics. It’s a choice made hoping that you wind up in the ‘good’ statistics, in the hope that your outcome doesn’t have the  worst side-effects (or at least not all of them), or the unforeseen complications. The ‘unusual’ patient. I know.

I know all of that.

22 February 2007, day after diagnosis. Brave? No, pissed off.

The walking and constantly

I am back from the walking for Rach. Her book is out in the world. I have started my funeral celebrant training. I am at peace. For now.

Here’s a short film of ‘the walking and constantly’ (the title of a Jane Siberry song). That’s what it felt like. Walking. Constantly. And remembering Rach.

And I have.

The memento book, completed on my walk to remember Rach.

I am back from my pilgrimage walk for Rach. I am filled with memories, and I filled my memento book with words and images. These words:

The essence of Rach

The essence of a friend. What is the essence of Rach? How Mandy and I pondered that. In the end sections of Rachel’s book, after we’d completed the blog posts and the resources, Mandy said she wanted it to contain the ‘essence of Rach’. So, what would that be? Newman, her dog, obviously. Her beloved husband Anthony Moro. But more, her family, and all her friends from across the world who wrote and spoke tributes for her. Her love of gardening, her delight in heirloom tomatoes, her culinary skills. And more. I hope we’ve somehow captured the essence of Rach in her book.

November 2011, Rach and her beloved dog Newman

—

Dear Rach

Dear Rach,

Now your book has been revealed to the world. During this summer I have been wrapped in your words. In more ways than you will ever know. They surround me. All 94,000 of them. Every one is balm.

I think now, of the time we had together. On an edge. Meeting on the edge. Your edge doesn’t frighten me. My edge doesn’t frighten you.

I miss you.