Stepping into one another’s hearts

Topic: My response, When dread disease strikes

Archetype(s):

#7 Recently Diagnosed, #8 Currently Undergoing Treatment, #9 Had Cancer in the Past, #10 Loved One Recently Diagnosed, #11 Loved One Undergoing Treatment, #12 Loved One Had Cancer in the Past, #13 A Loved One Has Passed On

Experience of life:

Experiencing the different perspectives of loss caused by dread disease

Dread disease, a critical illness that can potentially be life-threatening to the one being diagnosed, and life-changing for those they love.

In Sibylle’s reflection post, Life changes in a Heartbeat, she shares her touching experience as an adult child on the brink of losing a parent. It’s every child’s fear… not the fear of if, because we know it’s inevitable. But the fear of when. Or how. We are never ready.

As a parent diagnosed with dread disease, we experience the other side to it.

My son was eight months old when I faced my own mortality for the first time: What if he never gets to know his mommy?

Confident that I would do whatever needed done, using all the tools available to me at the time, I had to find my peace in telling myself that he would be ok without me. Surrounded by people who loved him and a father I picked well, I had to accept that I could potentially be, to him, a distant memory of someone who loved him more than life itself. Real to him only through pictures and stories of the past.

Later in life, it was my mom who was diagnosed when I was in my late 40s. Her biggest concern? Being a burden to her children.

As much as her daughters may have wanted her to fight cancer with all the tools available to her, she had a different take. Her question to me was posed with crystal clear clarity: “If not this, then what, Allison?”

She was only getting older, her body more frail, and she didn’t want to live in fear of the next attack on her life. She declined treatment.

And she was fully aware of the physical, mental, and emotional toil of cancer on her caregivers. Exhausting, yes, but always a privilege, she wouldn’t see it that way. In her heart, her maternal instinct, she was giving us the gift of freedom.

In the picture with her is my dad, the frame popping up this morning as sis and I were going through her boxes. She lost him to heart disease 30 years ago. The other two pics are of my step-dad. She lost him to cancer in 2016.

After carrying her fair share of love and loss in her lifetime, she was ready for peace.

As Sibylle’s loved ones rally around one another, and as we embrace them in our love and our light, we are reminded of how fleeting life can be.

We’re also reminded that without this deep love there would be no deep pain, so it’s the pain of privilege for having loved, and being loved, so passionately in this lifetime.

Written by Allison on behalf of My Child Has Cancer Trust

Curious to know your archetype and how I can support you?

Do you think someone else would find this useful?

Do you feel called to support my work?

Would you like to view all my posts?

My Child Has Cancer Trust

My Child Has Cancer Trust (MCHCT) was started by a collection of mothers whose children had cancer. These mothers and families travelled the journey through their cancer experience together by supporting each other to face whatever unpredictable hurdles the dis-ease brought with it every day.