A Rainy Patch

I haven't blogged in over a week. My readers are starting to get concerned. Bless their hearts the Canned Quilter is fine. I'm just going through a little rainy spot. It's raining in my soul. You all know what I am talking about ....when you are just sad and a little blue. A lot on your mind. Mine all started off with rainy weather the first of last week. That all day dreary cloudy weather. Then O Wise One and I had to drive to Ellis Fischell Cancer Research Center for my 6 month screening for cancer. It is a two and a half hour drive and it rained all the way there and all the way home. We were pretty quiet on the drive. My mind wandered to all the people I had met along the way on my journey to recovery. The brothers and sisters like myself who had been struck with this horrible disease. So many had lost their battle. So many much younger than I. The survivors guilt set in. Why had I survived when so many had not. We had all fought so hard. The needles, radiation and chemotherapy. The sickness and side effects of the treatment itself. The horror of watching your hair fall out. The feeling of no energy, of constant monitoring of blood counts and wearing masks to cope with having no immunity. Hats and wigs. The funerals of those who have not survived are the toughest.

I waited anxiously for 2 days for the results of my screenings. My numbers were great. As far as they can tell I am still cancer free. It's been two and a half years. After five I am considered cured. I find out today that my neighbors father has bone cancer.  And life goes on.

For now I cook alot. I pull into myself and let my soul heal a little. O Wise One as always loves me and recognizes this mood and just supports me. He knows this too shall pass. We walk into the future as always hand in hand as one. Here in the Holler spring is just around the bend. We shall embrace it and glory in the miracles of grandchildren and sprouting seeds. We shall plant and glory in the sprouting of the seeds and we shall harvest. Toil is our old friend and we find comfort in the soil and the animals that dwell upon it. So much depends on us and we depend on these things that sustain us.

We thank our God every day for it all and especially for each other.

"There is so little patience for the silence from which words emerge or for the silence that is between words and within them. When we forget or neglect this silence, we empty our world of its secret and subtle presences. We can no longer converse with the dead or the absent."

John Donohue

Blessings from The Holler

The Canned Quilter