The struggle...

I feel like I am struggling between two people. The woman I was and the woman I am becoming. The woman I am now. Both are very similar and yet worlds apart. I look at pictures of myself from 3 years ago and that woman is barely recognizable. And I am not talking about the curvier figure or the length of my hair. It goes so much deeper than that. To my core. I am still Skye. I still love to read. Crave a good cup of tea. Love to see, touch and make art. I still marvel at the beauty all around me. But I am different. Skye of a few years ago is gone. She died little by little as David was diagnosed, began treatments and than as she slowly watched her beautiful lover die. She died too.

Everything is different now and yet the same? How is that possible?

I am more confident than I have ever been. I feel stronger and yet the future still terrifies me. I know that I too am a warrior. No, I am not a cancer survivor. But I survived cancer. I survived the havoc is wreaked on David’s body and the destruction is wrought on our life and I am still standing…if only barely. And I will continue to fight. I will continue to beat down that fucker and do everything in my power to help make a difference on this damn planet. For those fighting Cancer and those guardians of hope that care for their loved ones fighting the beast. Or any beast for that matter.

I am here…so I might as well do something constructive with my time. I no longer believe that it is about how we die. We are all going to someday. Sounds harsh, but it is true. We may not know how or when. But it is going to happen. So I am trying to worry less about the end and focus on the journey ahead. Because really, it is all about the journey. It does not matter as much how long or short your time is here on this rock. It is all about what you choose to do with that time. Do you choose to live life to the fullest or curl up and die? Do you choose to fight or be the victim? Do you choose to smile or cry?

And I am learning it is ok to do all of these things and more…all at once. Because as David taught me…it is all about the choice. Everything we do. Everything we perceive. Everything in life. I may not have gotten to choose whether I wanted to be a widow or not. But I can choose what the hell I am going to do about it now that I am. Just like David never chose to get Cancer. But he did choose to continue to “live” despite a terminal diagnosis. He chose not to be the victim despite the shitty cards life dealt him. And I am choosing to follow his example.

I fight on…David’s 'Warrior Queen' as he used to call me. Although it is a struggle and there are some days life just seems too much. Too much pain. Too much of everything. And some days what I would not give to just stop and rest. To find peace in someone’s arms and to feel safe and warm if only for a bit. Not that I should or need to depend on another for peace and strength. But it would be nice when I am feeling so damn fragile and alone…to feel strong arms of protection. To give me strength when I feel like I have none left to give. To feel I could sag against someone’s shoulder and just let my walls down. Be enveloped for a spell. To just have someone stroke my hair and take care of me if only for a while. Does that make me any less strong? Does that make my little feminist mentality all bullshit? I have not a clue. But it is what I feel some days...