It was January 2022. I was sitting on a Zoom call and interacting with nine perfect strangers. We were on a Quest led by Bobby Kountz to discover more about ourselves, our purpose, and how we could use our unique gifts to impact the lives of others. Some had a clear vision and purpose and how they planned to share it with the world. Others began to paint the picture and execute the vision each week. As each week progressed, I realized I was living my purpose each day caring for my daughter and family. Sharing the joy and struggles of the journey in my writing is the icing on the cake.
My experience in Quest also reinforced that I value people and connection over material possessions. Human interaction is more valuable to me than gold or silver. Every connection is a precious, one-of-a-kind gemstone, and boy, did I collect some gems through my experience. One of these Gems goes by the name Gail. It was Gail’s quiet confidence that attracted me. She was so different from me, and I wanted access to her energy. I had a girl crush! (To get the full scoop, I recommend checking out Curiosity to Connection.)
Gail reached out to me. She invited me to connect on a Zoom call to chat and get to know each other better. I was thrilled and so excited. I got up early that morning to shower, shampoo, and shine for our 6 a.m. call. We quickly broke the ice and learned a bit more about each other before she had to hop off the call. She was having a mammogram. I didn’t think much about it other than having empathy for her. Mammograms are not on my list of pleasant experiences.
Our call was on February 8, 2022. On February 11th, Gail got the news that she had breast cancer. When I heard the news, I was sad, and there was a feeling of discomfort. We weren’t friends. Heck, we were barely acquaintances at this point. While our connection was new, I remember thinking the timing of our call had to mean something. There was a reason we connected at this exact moment, but now what? How do you support someone appropriately that you barely know? Do I acknowledge the cancer diagnosis? Do I engage? Do I retreat? I really wasn’t sure.
We continued to chat on the phone weekly through most of her cancer treatment. Sometimes, the conversations were a bit awkward because I was afraid to say the wrong thing or cross a boundary I had no business crossing. Gail has a gift for asking questions and pulling quotes out of thin air like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Her gifts were a catalyst for me to push through my hesitations and fears. Through our sessions, our friendship began to blossom.
As I wrestled with my thoughts about supporting her, I thought about what helps me when I need support. The answer is MUSIC. When I am feeling down, there is a song for that. When I want to feel sad, there is a song for that. When I am in gratitude, there is a song for that. When I want to rejoice or celebrate, there is a song for that. Some people lean into poems or affirmations. Others have prayers or quotes that help them. Music has been the salve that heals my wounds, comforts my soul, and brings me joy. Maybe that is a gift I could share with her?
As we texted or chatted, I would listen and try to get a sense of her energy. Later I would share a song that I hoped may be supportive at that moment. I would bet money that most missed the mark. Some may have her questioning my mental state. Others were on the ready for another day. But I knew some would be received at the right moment because music is magical that way. I didn’t send songs about cancer. I didn’t send I’m Gonna Love You Through It or I Run for Life. These are great songs, but not the message I wanted to convey. I selected songs that I hoped would give her a feeling of empowerment, gratitude, or peace. While I certainly planned to love her through it, and I have and will continue to run (well, walk) for life, they were not the right ones for the job.
Last week, Gail Boenning published her fourth novel, Poise: Facing Cancer with Grace and Resilience. I couldn’t download the book on Kindle or order a hard copy on Amazon because I did not have access to good internet on my trip. (I was disconnected in a good way.) I returned home in the wee hours Thursday and discovered that damned Covid stowed away in my luggage. Day one at home was a Code Red day. My primary backup caregiver injured her knee on the last day of my trip and was down for the count. I was in full crisis mode in my head. How was I going to care for Emily without getting her sick? I have so much work waiting for me at my day job. God, cut me some slack. Figuring out caregiving was the top priority, followed by my work. Then time to rest and heal.
I have made it to the rest and healing portion of my journey. I get to read and write again. My blog space has been neglected for the past few weeks, and I finally have a chance to sit down and write. BUT…I have nothing to say. As I ponder the blank page, it hits me that I am in a funk. I shouldn’t have gone on this trip. Things always go wrong when I am away. Why can’t I catch a break? Todd has to be exhausted from caring for Emily, and now he has to do it longer. This is the tamer chatter spiraling in my mind. Well, Billie, what do we do when we can’t write (or leave the house or the bedroom except for double-masked bleach-infused trips to the loo)? We read. Let’s finally download Gail’s book and settle in for the ride.
I was hooked from the beginning of the book (as I knew I would be). This book is a sharp contrast from Gail’s prior work. Gail shares a level of intimacy and vulnerability that won’t be found in her other books. It captures snippets of her stay in the land of Cancer. Each vignette opens up a bit of the picture. Gail answers many of the questions I never dared to ask. As the story unfolds with each vignette and comes into focus, I discover it isn’t about cancer at all. Cancer is one of the characters, but Gail refuses to give it the bulk of her attention. Gail paints a picture of love, gratitude, and awareness for the care team that helped her navigate through Cancer. It is a beautifully written love letter to her caretakers. It shines a light on the people that cared for her, supported her, and gave her the resilience to step into their light while she “vanquished the invaders”. Take that cancer! You don’t even get a capital C anymore.
Gail, thank you for this full-length love letter. I received a gift of love as a caregiver. I felt the appreciation you openly shared about each individual that lifted you up. Often, caregivers are not acknowledged for the work they do each day. I hope each of your caretakers feel the love and receive the gift with open arms.
P.S. In the spirit of cliffhangers, if you are wondering which songs hit the mark, if any, you must read the book to find out. Also, get the book because it is a great read.
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Conversation for Change 