EGRET
An egret rests a moment
on our dock unafraid.
What a wonder.
Just for us or rehearsal for
a bigger crowd who will
cheer at their luck?
Look, they will quietly applauded
(too much gratitude
will drive the bird away),
All I know before
it took flight it seemed
to ask us (they do not sing),
more in gesture than
voice, “Was that enough? I
can come tomorrow
to catch another fish.”
Dear family and friends,
Tomorrow is chemo day. Two more left after this. Then surgery. Then radiation for a few months.
I really, really hate cancer. Most recently, it took my little sister (she was younger AND little). If I’ve got it right, long ago, it also took my grandmother.
This past week Nora has been extra “puny” (her word). The chemo is taking its toll. She hates it and will let you know specifically just how she feels about that! Since the dogs and I are the only ones around to hear her declamations to the heavens, we feel her frustrations personally and attempt to encourage thoughts more positive than “Bomb everybody!” (At certain times, I have learned what to do with my “encouragement,” and we both laugh.)
This episode in our lives is so amazing. “Strangers” comfort us, but then they are no longer strangers.
I will paraphrase my favorite writer (William Carlos Williams) from his poem, “Waiting.” This is what Nora would say …
What did I plan to say to him
when it should happen to me
as it has happened now?
Thank you for your love.
Paul
Nora, hang in there! I hate cancer too, I hate what it does to people — as you probably know my husband died of lung cancer 8 years ago — trust me, my son could have used him around another 8 plus years. My paternal grandmother (who I should have known and would surely have admired, and my only blood grandmother) died before I was born of breast cancer. I cared much for my dad’s dad but would love to have known her — a strong, Irish, independent woman who taught my dad how to be positive in the face of adversity. There are many people praying for you and I’m one of them. Love, Mary
From Maine where the Salmon run the undamed rivers again me and the creatures send our best.
Capt. MY
Nora, I love you. Simple…
Tana
Nora,
Keeping you in prayer every day. I know three other people with cancer right now,
my mother (90) in a nursing home in Rockford, a doctor whose abundance of knowledge
about the illness gets in the way, and a friend in Rockford who came here last weekend for
a special Mass for the sick. Last weekend we had what is called a communal anointing which
invovled giving everyone who needed prayers the anointing of the sick. As I said, I thought of
you and Paul and included you in the activity in my heart. Day by day. Love, Don
Nora;
Although we had few hours together, I have checked on your status regularly just want you to know you are in our thoughts and prayers every day. There are Egrets and Herons who are calling you name!
Much love. Please know we are only a phone call away. 843-726-5415. Rob is home most days. We think of you often and we are here for you need anything!
Rob & Peg
Dear Nora and Paul, I think of you in your hot and sultry low country, communing with nature and the sea…….. doing what you need to do . Living in your now. I think you’re a strong woman. I am too and still think it helps confront the challenges. These big ones. But also realize I may be wrong and if we’re less strong, it’s more real hence more ‘reasonable’ ….But we are who we are and we do the best we can… according to our philosophy at the moment. Love from my Windsong Hill where birds and w ind thru the trees make my favorite kind of music…………. Patsy
Sending you lots of love. Wish I could send you buckets of strength to get you through these “puny ” days. Keep on hollering , it’s good for the soul ! Paul , loved the poem. I’m going to check him out. Pure & simple, like Tana says , we all hate this for you, but you will pull through this. … No other option , ya here !