A Simple Cup of Joe?

I've not written much lately. I've been scheduling get-togethers with friends and using my time before the second round of chemo wisely - I've been having fun! In addition, I continue to deal with the unexpected - the after effects of chemo.

Chemo has affected me more than I ever thought it would. It makes sense: Toxins are flowing through your body and brain in an attempt to rid the body of cancer. I find my reactions to things stronger but, thankfully, the reactions are not often, but they are a little too often for me. It just goes with it, and I continue to try and find the gift in that. I think one of the gifts in this is the opportunity to have heightened awareness.

Despite after effects of chemo, my friends all look to see the very best in me, and when I know my reactions and/or judgments have been too strong or more than I would like, and when I know it's not that easy to see the best in me, they continue, completely overlooking the other. That's a gift I am really grateful to have.

There have been many wonderful stories to share regarding my experience with cancer. Just one of the many involves my friend Steve Brook, or as my mother likes to call him, "the gorgeous man." I smile as I type that as I know it will result in a blush. You've heard me mention Steve before www.stevebrook.com/

I met Steve over at Whole Foods Thursday after work. He is visiting from Spain, and it was our second get-together since his return. Steve and I met through our mutual friend Bliss Wood last year. He was and is interested in all things Native American and Bliss knew we should meet. After about 15 minutes at that first meeting, we were fast friends. It was good to see Steve again Thursday.

Steve learned about my cancer diagnosis after he had already returned to Spain last year. He expressed deep regret for being thousands of miles away and offered that he wished he were nearer so he could help. I assured him that I had more help that I could have ever dreamt of, but still he wished to be here.

When he returned shortly before Christmas, I was just getting out and about again. We finally got to see each other at a friend's songwriter round. It was wonderful to see him!

I learned shortly after this meeting that Steve had done something for me so extraordinarily thoughtful that I couldn't quite believe it. I could try to write about it here in first person, but perhaps it is better to share an excerpt from his letter to me.

"When you told me of your illness back in (was it July) I felt so bad for you that I wanted to do something, but what could I do thousands of miles away? Pray? Well yes I did that, but strangely enough I wanted to do something more active than just words and positive thoughts, I wanted to create a positive action somehow. Then I got to thinking ... It is my belief that there is no such thing as empty space and that the space between all objects and people is actually filled with energy flows, almost as if we are all swimming around in a tub of energy. Therefore whatever is thrown into that tub will eventually float round and soak us all, in other words whatever we put in will eventually come back to us. So then I concluded that in a way, the air I breathe out is the air you breathe in. Now I know that when fighting the illness you were fighting one thing of importance is to keep the imune system as healthy as possible and nicotene, alcohol and cafeine are things that harm the imune system.

And so I decided to give up coffee.

I decided that I would forsake something I enjoyed daily as a kind of creative offering of a postive gesture out into the universe i.e. injection of a postive gesture and energy into that universal bath tub, hoping that it would add a speck of positivity into the flow so that YOU would receive some of that amassed positivity when and where you needed it.

So I have not touched a drop of coffee since you announced the diagnosis back in the summer.

. . . I decided that the next time I drank a coffe I would be seated next to you in person with me telling you this crazy little story and you telling me you are cured! Well my dear friend tonight I guess was that moment ... I do know you are cured and we have met, so I guess my circle is complete ... all that remains is that I taste some coffee again ... but maybe if you give me permission to do so it might make me feel more like it's time.

Well ... I had to take a moment to absorb such a beautiful gift. After I soaked in that love, I wrote Steve back and told him that I thought it would be fine to now have that cup of Joe. The next time I saw Steve, last Thursday, he gave me a gift, which I took a picture of the gift to share with you.

There are gifts in everything, things that seem the most impossible, things you think might overwhelm you, kill you. They are there if you look for them. We find what we are looking for.

I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such wonderful acts of love, but whatever it was, I'm glad I did it. Thank you, Steve. I love you, my dear, dear friend.

Give yourself a gift. Even Starbucks agrees: "Do something good every day." It may deeply touch someone, and you may never know that it did.