The word I write about today is the word “deserve”.
It was James’ birthday on Thursday. Lacking the ability up until that day to really plan anything, the three of us spent the day perusing Seattle enjoying the gift of life. Along the way we bought him a wooden make-your-own dinosaur, a bunch of flowers, a hide journal, and of course, hot dogs.
That I was up and able to walk, dance (in the bathroom in front of a mirror) and eat out was a gift in itself.
It was James’ birthday on Thursday. Lacking the ability up until that day to really plan anything, the three of us spent the day perusing Seattle enjoying the gift of life. Along the way we bought him a wooden make-your-own dinosaur, a bunch of flowers, a hide journal, and of course, hot dogs.
That I was up and able to walk, dance (in the bathroom in front of a mirror) and eat out was a gift in itself.
I’ve always known life is a gift but now, it’s undeniable. Yesterday, we spoke to the surgeon who will be cutting out a fist-sized chunk of my skull on Tuesday. I guess up until this point I’ve maintained some form of hope that it’s really just some swelling, that they’re going to tell me that it was just all some big mistake, or that it’s just benign and will all be gone and the ordeal will be a story to tell.
But tumours aren’t like that. They keep growing. Yes, they’ll get out as much as they can, but it’s not the end. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy, those dreaded words that I always saw as the burden of an unfortunate few, are now real possibilities. With the surgery, I’m going to lose my hair either way. It’s all real, and all this stuff that all seemed so foreign and unimaginable actually applies to me.
But tumours aren’t like that. They keep growing. Yes, they’ll get out as much as they can, but it’s not the end. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy, those dreaded words that I always saw as the burden of an unfortunate few, are now real possibilities. With the surgery, I’m going to lose my hair either way. It’s all real, and all this stuff that all seemed so foreign and unimaginable actually applies to me.
I paused as I wrote to James in a little birthday card that he deserves everything. Yes, I believe that with all my heart. But I wonder, what do we really deserve? Do I deserve to have a brain tumor? Does everyone around me whose brains are free of tumors not deserve one? Is it simply coincidence, or is there more to it?
I really don’t know anymore, if I ever did know. But I do know that when I look back upon my life I see so many times I didn’t really believe I was deserving. I didn’t really deserve to be loved, and when everything in life seemed to be going well deep down I often felt that surely, something had to give.
With a persistent awareness of inequality and the massive challenges faced by so many people throughout the world, it was my view of life as a balanced system that works for equilibrium that sometimes fed this belief that a bit of bad fortune must surely accompany good fortune.
I really don’t know anymore, if I ever did know. But I do know that when I look back upon my life I see so many times I didn’t really believe I was deserving. I didn’t really deserve to be loved, and when everything in life seemed to be going well deep down I often felt that surely, something had to give.
With a persistent awareness of inequality and the massive challenges faced by so many people throughout the world, it was my view of life as a balanced system that works for equilibrium that sometimes fed this belief that a bit of bad fortune must surely accompany good fortune.
When I first knew something was wrong with me I was scared. I was terrified. I tried not to show it, plastered on a smile and pretended everything was okay. I remember lying in bed one night and almost hyperventilating with secret fear, knowing that the diagnosis of MS was wrong, knowing that there was something growing in my brain.
My fear wasn’t of dying - I’m not afraid of death itself. But it was the fear of leaving those I love, of not being there for people, for not extending and sharing the hope that I want to share in this life.
The fear was in imagining my eulogy, wondering if the reason I had done so much already in this life was because by some unknown force I knew my time was limited.
My fear wasn’t of dying - I’m not afraid of death itself. But it was the fear of leaving those I love, of not being there for people, for not extending and sharing the hope that I want to share in this life.
The fear was in imagining my eulogy, wondering if the reason I had done so much already in this life was because by some unknown force I knew my time was limited.
Do I deserve to die? Do I deserve to live? Our society doesn't really encourage us to ask these questions, and so we as a species have waltzed around with an attitude of entitlement.
I lay in an ER last week next to an old man who told the nurses that he had no-one. No family left, no friends. I almost cried - for most of all, through all this, I have learned I am loved. And with that, I;ve come to feel that yes, I am deserving of love and yes, I am deserving of life.
Granted, I believe the brother of mine who passed away many years ago was also deserving of life. But I have a choice. I still believe, perhaps more than ever, that there is some form of intrinsic equilibrium to life, but I can choose whether to see it as good bringing bad, or to see it as the greatest challenges in life can bring the greatest rewards.
This is not some celestial punishment for being fortunate. It is another challenge in life that will have it's own rewards, rewards that I'm already beginning to experience.
Essentially, we're all choosing to live. We believe we deserve to live. Now faced with the concept of death, I see that we are all in the same situation - we all live each day with the knowledge that each day is one day closer to the end of our lives.
But perhaps more importantly than making the choices to put off our impending deaths for as long as possible, how would our lives be different if we decide to truly choose life? And I don't mean choose life in the way screaming hordes do in front of abortion clinics. I mean to live with utter gratitude that we have this chance to live a life, to seek the breadth of flavors and smells and colours available to us.
Are we living to die, or are we dying to live?
I lay in an ER last week next to an old man who told the nurses that he had no-one. No family left, no friends. I almost cried - for most of all, through all this, I have learned I am loved. And with that, I;ve come to feel that yes, I am deserving of love and yes, I am deserving of life.
Granted, I believe the brother of mine who passed away many years ago was also deserving of life. But I have a choice. I still believe, perhaps more than ever, that there is some form of intrinsic equilibrium to life, but I can choose whether to see it as good bringing bad, or to see it as the greatest challenges in life can bring the greatest rewards.
This is not some celestial punishment for being fortunate. It is another challenge in life that will have it's own rewards, rewards that I'm already beginning to experience.
Essentially, we're all choosing to live. We believe we deserve to live. Now faced with the concept of death, I see that we are all in the same situation - we all live each day with the knowledge that each day is one day closer to the end of our lives.
But perhaps more importantly than making the choices to put off our impending deaths for as long as possible, how would our lives be different if we decide to truly choose life? And I don't mean choose life in the way screaming hordes do in front of abortion clinics. I mean to live with utter gratitude that we have this chance to live a life, to seek the breadth of flavors and smells and colours available to us.
Are we living to die, or are we dying to live?
1 comment:
You are such an amazing woman! This world would be such a better place if we were fortunate enough to have more minds a beautiful as yours. Keep doing what you do best, explore this crazy fucked up thing we call life with a smile on your face, and the curiosity of what it has yet to reveal to you. We will never have a definitive answer of what it really means to live or why we even do, but I do know you have spent your entire life thus far coming as close to that answer as anyone possibly could. You have given nothing but happiness, inspiration, and hope to me and everyone else who has ever been lucky enough to have you as a friend. Keep smiling Bethany, you make this world a better place!
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