It’s Ours

The last one was fairly dark.

I think it is remarkable that we can so easily go dark. From a purely human perspective, it’s easy to find ourselves the victims of circumstance and forget the power of humanity to overcome all of the worst parts of human existence.

I spoke about my good friend with cancer, and didn’t lean hard enough on the human ability to overcome almost anything. The truth is that I have more than one important person in my life battling cancer, and I am fascinated by the response, both from their perspective and my own.

I had a very passionate and inspired science teacher in the 8th grade. She was a teacher who was willing to go beyond the classroom to teach us of the world in which we live. I can distinctly remember stalking the edges of our middle school campus trying to find the birds she had recorded earlier, and wondering what the point might be. Her husband was fighting cancer, and she was searching for any possible response that might change the outcome. He lost, and she lost, and 40 years later I still think about it. If we’re being honest, I have no idea whether she is still alive, although I would guess not, since that kind of love and devotion generally leads to a spouse following her love into the afterlife.

Lem Parks was the closest thing I had to a grandfather. One of my actual grandfathers had died long before my birth and the other was long gone from my life. I can only remember meeting him once, when I was eleven. Given the attitude of his ex-wife, my maternal grandmother, I can’t say that I blame him for making a new life. The real question is whether she was so mean and bitter because of him, or before he decided to leave her. I’ll never know.

Anyway, Lem Parks was a good substitute. He managed to impart the kind of lessons and wisdom that a real grandfather should. He did so with patience and kindness, and most of his lessons stick as the absolute truth to this day. Lem’s wife devolved into the angry kind of dementia, which I totally understand. I can clearly recall conversations with her that repeated the basics over and over. Having no control of life would make me angry as well. It didn’t affect us, other than the occasional moment when she would throw an ancient rancid ham off her deck and our dog, Henry, would eat it only to be afflicted with doggie diarrhea for several days afterwards. The point is that when she died, Lem didn’t survive very long, even though to all accounts, he may not have known when she died. Somehow, he knew, and didn’t want to continue in this world without her. He died very shortly thereafter. I could write his imparted stories for weeks on end and every one of them held some good lessons for all of us, yet he could not survive without his wife.

So now, I find myself coping with another very important person with cancer. By coping, I don’t mean that I have to deal with anything like what she needs to handle. My own struggle is a pale shadow of what those with cancer and their immediate loved ones must endure, but I still end up with all the hard questions.

In one case, I believe she has the willpower to overcome almost anything. She is strength of will personified. In another, I don’t know, but I still care enough to hope that is the case. That leads immediately to the question of whether strength of will or the belief behind it has anything to do with the outcome. Perhaps the outcome is written in sheer biological terms, or perhaps the human will comes into play. I don’t know. If I take the case of my 8th grade teacher’s husband, where I handed her Science Digest articles about combating cancer through visualization, and it failed meant that either he failed to believe, failed to do the work, or it was just a pile of crap, I don’t know. In the case of my good friend, a person who is part of my family regardless of actual genetic ties, I don’t know if she can outgun cancer through sheer force of will, or divine providence, or whatever passes for a miracle. In the case of a long lost friend who is seeking resolution through the power of prayer and belief in God, I also do not know.

But here’s what I do know. We are creatures of belief. We are incredibly capable of converting belief into reality. In the seedy reality of life, that could apply to politics, or the outcome for our children, or the outcome of a cancer diagnosis. We should choose our beliefs wisely and then apply them with everything we can muster. Odds are, the outcome will follow. For better or worse…

So, to Shirley, or Judith, or the countless others of which I am not aware, I say believe, cling to those beliefs, and that will serve as the basis for your outcome. Bizarre as it may seem, we are creatures of belief, and we make our reality. For good or ill. How scary is that?

Leave a Comment