Cancer, Cowardice, and Courage

After I got back to Michigan, in my mail was a newsletter from a local cancer support group. In the newsletter was a sort of poem contrasting the difference between “Giving Up” and “Letting Go”. I’ve been thinking about that. Shortly before Danny died, I had told my Mom that while I myself use words like “fighting cancer”, and “Cancer Survivor”, I realize that analogy of being in a fight with a disease can become dangerous when someone dies. I don’t want anyone to ever think that Danny, or any of the others we love who died from cancer, was not victorious!

Years ago, a man from my church died while waiting for a heart transplant. People from our church had prayed and prayed, even having vigils, that Jeff would either have a miraculous healing or would get a transplant. Some of these people were devastated at his death, but Jeff’s own words brought them comfort. He told family members that he would be healed no matter what happened, because there is no disease in Heaven. In the presence of his heavenly Father, he would have a new body with no sickness. So he considered it the greatest healing if he were to die and be in the arms of God.

Those of us who are “survivors” often get called “heroes”, and told we are brave and inspiring. Sometimes it is hard not to laugh – it is not as if we chose to have cancer “Gee – I’m feeling brave today, let’s fight colon cancer!”. This morning I came across an on-line “diary” of a man battling cancer as he shared his thoughts on cancer, cowardness and courage. He had heard a line on a TV show that said “Cancer makes cowards of us all”, and he decided that was wrong. His name is Leroy Sievers, and he does a broadcast and an on-line “blog” for National Public Radio. He wrote today:

“To me, a coward is someone who runs away, who fails to act out of fear. No cancer patient is a coward, for one very simple reason. We're not allowed to be. How many of us would love to run away from our disease? From the treatments, the side effects, the pain? At some point, we have all felt that. But it's just not one of the options. We can't run away. So we are left with only one choice. Stand and face it.”

I would add that the same is true for those of you who care for us. I saw in my Mom so much nobility, grace, and courage. I’m sure she would have loved to run away from cancer, but she stayed by Danny’s side literally to his last breath. She always treated his soul and his body with dignity and respect. Now today, we would all love to run from the pain we feel at his loss, to escape the grief and the tears that suddenly come out of nowhere or the images that suddenly flash in front of our eyes. Be we can’t, so we stand and face it, one day at a time, one hour at a time, one moment at a time, one breath at a time.