In honor of my wife’s memory, and to help continue her amazing legacy, I will be republishing over the next few months some of her writings, which not only give an insight into how amazing she was, but really helped inspire so many people around the world.
My plan is to also publish her writings in a book, along with testimonials from those who were somehow inspired or helped by her (whether by her writings or good deeds). If that includes you, please send your experiences to me at israellycool-at-yahoo-dot-com.
First published Oct 11th 2012
When it comes to letting go… there’s letting go because you choose to and there’s letting go because you’re forced to. Being forced to let go of something precious feels a lot like a loss, a sacrifice, agony. Then there’s the other side of letting go, taking charge, and letting go of things in order to set yourself free; letting go of anger, letting go of sadness. Letting go can either be a process of release, relief, and acceptance or it can be an assault on your very being.
Every person has and will either dance this impassioned dance or endure this painful assault. We all experience tests and each of us has a destiny.
These are not mere words.
I don’t know why this happened – two nights ago, I had a feeling. I wanted to pull out an old medical file and look at my first ultrasound scan results from my last pregnancy. Would there be anything there to predict the situation I’m in? In 2009, when I was 10 weeks pregnant with my youngest child, I had a routine ultrasound. In the report, it clearly indicates an abnormal growth on my left ovary. For whatever reason it wasn’t discussed with me at the time or afterwards, however, it’s glowing proof that something could have been done and wasn’t. I’m letting go.
I lost my ovaries and my uterus and with it my fertility and likely a year of my life which will be spent on fighting for health, chemotherapy, and other things. THAT was a powerless loss. Nothing I could do about it. Any power I had to win that battle was never presented to me. It’s sad and even infuriating, yes.
I’m letting go. I choose to dance the impassioned dance! This information has given me power! Cancer gave me a new voice and I’m going to use it to empower, inform, and perhaps even save lives.
Slowly but surely, my new path is unwinding before me… it’s astonishing, it’s madness, and it’s breathtaking. Perhaps the lack of sleep is affecting my brain and abilities? I feel like I’m in a labyrinth and each turn is bringing me closer to something larger and monumental. What next?