Today, I found old letters from family members written long ago. These letters are like an echo, a voice from the past reminding me of those I love.
Their voices tell me what was happening then and remind me that those whose voices I no longer hear loved me.
Old letters are the closest you can get to a hug from someone who is no longer here. I hope you have some old letters to bring those echos and distant hugs back to you. ❤️
There are places that when you think of them, they evoke strong memories and feelings. They remind you of the first time you visited or the time you were there with your friends or when you first took your children there. They remind you of people, of events and times that have passed. These places when you think of them or visit them again bring a smile to your face and joy to your heart. These are the places of your heart.
It has been a long 3 years since I was first diagnosed with stage 3B ovarian cancer. I’ve riden a Rollercoaster of emotions, and those who know me well know I’m not fond of rollercoasters, but you can not run away from it. You put your safety harness on and hope for the best.
During this time, I have had lots of family members also get diagnosed with cancer. It’s a scary place to be. You begin to live with a lot of sorrow. You feel like the darkest of darkness has swept around you, and you wonder if you will survive. Those people in your life tell you to fight the good fight, to be strong, to find the light and hope, and to remind you of how much they love you. All great messages. What we also need to remember is that it’s also ok to feel angry, to feel sadness or sorrow, and to wonder if things will ever go back to the way it was. There’s no such thing as negative emotions. It’s ok to feel your feelings. They’re only there to visit. They don’t need to stay. We need balance in our lives, and these feeling often balance themselves out in the end.
I think love and sorrow travel hand in hand. It’s what brings joy into our lives. Without sorrow, you can not see the beauty that walks and exists around you. Sometimes, I think we get caught up in the sorrow and need people to show us the way back to love and show us how to see the beauty. It’s the nature of like. I also believe that when we don’t acknowledge what causes us sorrow, that’s when we begin to live in anger. As I’ve said many times to my lo ed ones, I don’t want to live in anger. However, it is ok to feel angry. I just believe that we acknowledge it and then move forward, returning to our love state of being. I know it sounds easy, but I also know it’s hard to do.
So, as I sit here receiving the 6th chemotherapy for my remission (I’ve had 12 total now). I think of all I’ve learned through this process. I’ve learned that while I’m the one with cancer, all my loved ones are also going through this journey. I’ve learned a lot about my body and health. I’m grateful for a bunch of blessings. The medical people in my life and the medical discoveries over the many years of research. I am grateful for healing, even if it’s slow. I’m grateful for my family and friends who bring me light and love every day. I’m grateful to the Creator who gives me strength every day to keep going. I’m grateful to those who have dropped off meals to help us out. I am for the kindness of strangers who remind me that there is still love in a world full of sorrow. Most of all, I am grateful for my life with all its sorrows and all its love.
Kinanâskomitin, I am grateful, ahkamēyimok, keep going. Kiyam, let go, miyo-pimâtisiwin, it’s a good life. Live it in a beautiful way. Ekosimaka, that’s all for now.
There’s a thread that runs through through me that connects me to the past. It joins my ancestors to me and defines who I am. This thread of golden light hits me and twists through connection. Wrapping me in the love that they had when they prayed for the future.
There is a thread that joins me, strong as it is. This thread is through song and ceremony. It’s made of golden light and connects my ancestral past to me. The light heals, the light sends love, and the golden thread of light keeps me connected. It reminds me that my ancestors prayed for me.
Sakaw Iskwew 