“It is often in the darkest skies that we see the brightest stars.”
Richard Evans
Tuesday, October 19, 2021
An excerpt from Choosing to See: How Miracles Carry Us Through to the Other side of Grief
Cancer is plural; it affects everyone. Our family and our friends were devastated to hear the news of Jim’s illness. Multiple myeloma granted him only two or three more years with us, but Jim vehemently decided he needed more than that. There were too many fears to be reckoned and too many dreams to be fulfilled. He was working to conquer his fear of public speaking, and above all, he desperately wanted to someday see his first grandchild. Jim was forced to choose to either let cancer victimize him or to allow cancer to reignite his purpose. He chose full-throttle ignition. So what did we do first? We planned a family trip to California.
Our children, my brother, Howard, and the two of us flew into Los Angeles and then drove to the Sierra Nevada Mountains. We stayed in a rustic lodge and planned to hike, horseback ride, and to simply enjoy our time together. Jim felt good, and we were all in hopes of changing his earlier prognosis. We had a beautiful life together, and we wanted to live it.
One evening, Jim and I were strolling hand-in-hand on the paths around our lodge when we stumbled upon a man looking through one of the most magnificent telescope we had ever seen. He glanced over and said, “Hey, you wanna see Andromeda?” His tone was so matter-of fact, like Andromeda is as common as seeing the moon. We spent nearly an hour with him looking not only at Andromeda, but countless constellations as well. We were both brought to tears as we were awestruck by such splendor, to witness the miracle of light the darkness shone. The black velvet of night blanked the sky allowing the light of the galaxies to come forth. Without darkness, we could have never seen the miraculous light.
When Jim and I plummeted into the darkness of cancer, floods of people from all walks entered into our lives. Prayer chains, food, wine, phone calls, gifts, outings, advice, visits, and cards were just a few of the light-bearing gifts presented to us. We even had an order of nuns, who only wore pink, praying for us. Because of the darkness we faced, the light from others shone through.
We were so richly blessed with the bounty of those who came forth to add the much needed spark to our exhausted flame. Thank you for being our light. I, and Jim in spirit, love you.
Radiate light to all today.