Part of the Color Synesthesia Project
As I’m typing this, the weather has turned wet and chilly. The grass is soaked in green and the cardinals are eating the last of the bird seed.
This time of year is usually my favorite, but just recently it became a sad anniversary. A year ago, I was sitting in a private hospital waiting room after what was supposed to be a routine hysterectomy for my mom. I don’t know what in the world took the doctor so long, but I waited there for 30 minutes knowing something was wrong, but not WHAT.
My sister, who worked in that same hospital, was also called to the private waiting room with no information. We sat there in nervous silence, my mom’s bag pressing against my leg. When the doctor finally showed up, that was the beginning of everything.
They were unable to perform the hysterectomy because a tumor had turned the surrounding area into “butter”… she would have bled out the surgeon said. A couple of weeks later, she would have another failed hysterectomy by a gynecological oncologist. He would say that there was nothing he could do at that point, the tumor had attached itself to blood vessels and bone.
That was September 2019. We lost her six months later. Her name was Nancy and no one who met her forgot the sound of her laughter. She loved bright colors and cardinals were her favorite bird.
Ironically, or sadly, the friend who chose the word “memories” was also watching a loved one slip away because of cancer. It created a strange and comforting bond between us that has become stronger over the past year as we mourn and remember.
Memories are a double-edged sword. They can help carry you through grief or they can sink you in despair. They are both a balm and a wound-opener. And, sometimes, the good ones can be just as painful as the bad. But they make up the substance of us, the very thing that shines out into the world around us.
I hope, if you have gone through something similar, that the good memories float up to the top. And if you’ve read this far, thank you. I don’t like to be a downer but it helps to get it out.
Lots of love and Happy Creating,
Christy
