Ash Wednesday marked the start of the Lenten season, which in and of itself is a big deal. This is the time of prayer, fasting and alms giving as we reflect on God’s great love for us and prepare for Easter Sunday. It was last year that I finally grasped the meaning and importance of the Lenten season. It was when I finally understood what a Lenten sacrifice was. Lent has taken on a much different meaning for me over the past year and has a far greater significance in my life.
Ash Wednesday 2020 was meaningful for a couple of other reasons as well. This Ash Wednesday mark my first day of freedom. It was a day of independence, of liberation, of sovereignty, of dominion. It was the day that I got my life back. It was the first day that I had driven a car in well over a month. It was the day that I returned to the office to work (albeit on a limited basis). It was the day that I attended meetings with actual people. Although I had been working from home, my interactions with real people had been quite limited. It was the day that I was able to return to daily mass, and Ash Wednesday 2020 was the first time my husband received ashes (he converted to Catholicism almost 20 years ago but had never received ashes on Ash Wednesday).
On February 3rd, everything changed, even if I wasn’t ready, even if I didn’t want it to, even if I was denying that it would change. For the past month, it almost seemed like my life has been on hold. I am not a person who can just sit idly. I am not very good at relaxing and I tend to over think and analyze things when I don’t have something to do. The entire month of February, I was forced to relax. I needed to relax if I was to heal properly.
Although I was diagnosed with breast cancer in early November and had surgery at the beginning of February, I have to remind myself that I am still in recovery. I still, technically, have at least a couple more weeks of recuperation from the mastectomy surgery. And I will have another surgery in a couple of months. I actually have to remind myself that I had cancer.
I know I have mentioned this before, but I don’t feel like I have/had cancer. I don’t feel sick, I don’t feel angry, I am not worried. I am not in pain, I am not depressed, I am not upset. The only things that have reminded me that I had cancer and had surgery to treat it were the changes to my daily routines.
For the entire month of February, I missed daily mass. That was difficult for me because daily mass is part of who I am. Missing daily mass also impacted the way in which I was praying and how I was relating to and talking with God. I didn’t pray morning prayer. I didn’t pray my normal rosary and chaplet of Divine Mercy. In fact, it didn’t seem like I was praying at all. But I was, it was just different. I experienced a profound peace that I never expected to find through all of this. I could sense God’s presence and Christ’s peace even though life had changed, even though there was uncertainty. I wasn’t feeling fear, or pain, or anger, or frustration or any of those things. If I am experiencing anything, it is guilt because of how well I actually feel.
I guess I feel guilty because I know others who have endured cancer, the surgeries, the radiation, the chemotherapy, the exhaustion, the pain, the stress, the depression, and everything else that goes along with it and I really haven’t experienced a lot of that. What I have experienced has not been that severe. I feel guilty for being concerned about not being able to cook for my family or being able to workout at my normal level of intensity (I am allowed to walk and use the elliptical- no arms). That is just selfish. I feel guilty because there are people who are battling cancer who have to deal with the pain and sickness associated with radiation and chemotherapy, and I don’t. I dodged a bullet with that one.
I have to go through reconstructive surgery, a process that is uncomfortable but bearable. I have to have some follow-up visits with my doctors for the next several weeks. I have to take some anti-cancer meds for next ten years. And I get a little tired. What do I really have to complain about, maybe that’s why I feel guilty? Maybe I feel guilty because I am so blessed, and I know I don’t deserve it.
While most days it doesn’t seem like a whole lot in my life has changed, I know that a lot has. And I have the scars (and the medical bills) to prove it. The scars, they are what remind me every day of the blessings.
I was texting with a friend the other day who asked how I was doing. I responded that I feel fantastic and that all of this has been a strange blessing. That’s when it struck me, this really has been a strange blessing. Most people think I am crazy when I say that breast cancer has been a blessing. But it really has been. I can’t explain it, but I marvel at it. I can’t figure out why I have been so fortunate when others have had to endure so much more. Why I have been blessed with such kindness, heartfelt compassion, love and friendship. I could sit and ask why did God give me cancer, but what God did through cancer was bless me abundantly in so many ways. I am just waiting to see what else He has in store for me throughout this journey, because I am pretty sure it is going to be something amazing. So yes, this cancer is a strange blessing, but it is a blessing, an amazing blessing, none the less.
So today, look for the strange blessings within your life, if you really take time, I am sure you will find several, and please pray for me as I will continue to pray for you.
Tattoos, Motorcycles, Beer, Bourbon and Faith 