Forgiveness, copyright 2013, Janet Hovde
Our family has a stunning prevalence of breast cancer on my mother’s side. Two of my maternal cousins, one about 5 years post-diagnosis, and one about 6 months post-diagnosis, were so helpful to me in my early days after diagnosis. One of them said, “Each step in and of itself is a huge step. The diagnosis is huge and overwhelming. You get used to it. The next step is surgery, which is a huge step. The next step is chemo or radiation or whatever. You take it step by step. Don’t look at the whole picture. Deal with today and tomorrow, not 3 months down the road.” The diagnosis itself was (and still is, 9 months later) a huge event. I’ll share some of it through more haiku:
Exhausting work is Breast cancer diagnosis, So much to process. The diagnosis Itself is a lot of work Weary mind, big sigh. The diagnosis Wakes me up regularly Weary body, sigh. The diagnosis Is overwhelming to me Like a brand new job. The diagnosis, A club I never wanted To join, ever, sigh. The diagnosis What do I picture it’s like? Sad, bald, and puking. The diagnosis Not too soon for someone to Bring us a good meal. The diagnosis Who do I tell, when and how? What works best for me?These postings started here. I invite you to write your own haiku (3 lines: 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables) and/or share this post with someone (you can use the buttons below). Thank you!
Janet, your post has really touched me. You mentioned elsewhere that your art practice and your intuition overlap. It looks like it’s all overlapping with your own healing as well.
As for haiku, I
need to noodle quietly:
Dogs barking: UPS.
Harmony, It sure does ALL overlap. Healing and intuition and art are such integral parts of my life. Thanks for sharing your haiku! The big brown truck and a barking dog or two–they go hand in hand, don’t they?
My friends are suffering
What can I do about IT
Send my love to them
Zannah, Love received, magnified, and sent back to you. Thank you.