and then the rage came

And then the rage came.

It swirled around me this morning, full of fear and fire and fury, and it made me mad. Angry. But more than angry. Resentful and red that such a thing would happen. That such a disease could exist. That beast cancer could act so fast and so thoroughly and so … wrongly.

I locked myself in my room and searched for answers. Thumbed the books. Searched the sites. Talked and wrote. But no answers came. There are none, you see. There are no reasons for such nastiness and disease to exist in the world, and even if there were, there is no rational reason why any individual should have to suffer its effects.

And so, this afternoon, I lay quietly on the hammock with my baby, and let the world wash over me and around me. The leaves rustled with the slightest breeze. The bees and butterflies set about pollinating the overgrown mint borders and the dying tomatoes in the garden. The hammock swung gently as I pushed us ever so softly through the air.

I was cradled by nature.

And I was reminded that the same world that holds disease and fear and rage also holds the comfort of nature and God.

hammock

And this.

38 Responses to and then the rage came

  1. Matt says:

    Just keep letting it wash over you – no rhymes, no reasons; some things just are. But you know you will beat this and you and your babies will go on softly floating. Because you have the strength and support and love that you need. What else can one ask for?

  2. E :) says:

    You will beat this. You are determined, inquisitive, strong and loved.

  3. There is no “why”, Whymommy, there is just no reason “why” it was you, or why it was cancer… Just please know that YOU are a gift to everyone around you, to everyone who hears your voice or reads your words. By sharing your experience with the rest of us, you are spreading the word about IBC, you are educating us, and Showing Us How It’s Done… with incredible grace, strength and courage.

    You’re going to beat this beast, beat it far, far into submission. And then, when it’s all in the past, you will have many, many more years with those gorgeous boys of yours… and countless more swings in the hammock.

  4. ohamanda says:

    Beautiful post. I think the rage is ok. It’s good b/c it causes you to want to beat it more! Keep letting God’s love wash over you! Always praying.

  5. mamatulip says:

    I remember when the rage came to me after my mum died. It floored me. I’d been so stoic through it all, I thought, and then all of a sudden I got punched in the face by it. I didn’t have kids at the time but I did something along the same lines as what you did — I went and sat outside and just…breathed.

    Thank you for sharing everything you have, and will.

  6. Robbin says:

    You will beat this. You will. You will dance at your son’s weddings. Wait and see.

  7. Kristin says:

    I think that anger is natural and healthy, almost beautiful in its purity. You have a right to be angry. The fact that it’s not your only emotion is amazing.

  8. The anger — totally healthy and to be expected. As if you did not know that already, you smart girl.

    And that picture is so beautiful. So beautiful.

  9. Right there – that’s productive, healthy, valid rage. We feel it for you too, and send you love and, again, ass-kicking strength.

  10. bubandpie says:

    When I saw that gorgeous photo, my first thought is that I would never think to do that – put my baby to bed in such a lovely, outdoor setting. I am so tied to my habits and schedules that I don’t always see the beauty in front of me.

    Even in your rage, you’re still seeing it. That’s a lovely, powerful thing.

  11. Ally says:

    You couldn’t have said it better: that the same world that holds disease and fear and rage also holds the comfort of nature and God. It is confusing, comforting, beautiful and maddening. It just is.

  12. Stimey says:

    I’ll be angry for you too. And I’ll also be loving that you can step back and see the beauty too (like that tiny Little Bear). And then the beauty will outlive the anger, as will you.

  13. clifford says:

    Yes. YES. I’m liking you much better when you’re absolutely hacked.

    My deepest wish for you is to plumb every last bit of woe-is-me why-me why-now it’s-going-to-hurt i-think-i’ll-lay-(or is it lie?)-around -ism from your soul and for that incisingly-perceptive, beautifully-analytical mind of yours to kick into fiendish overdrive.

    I don’t care if your earlobes turn blue, your nose closes up, and you grow seven more toes before all is said and done. There’s no cancer, disease, infection, or whatever sorry excuse for a sick day that the devil throws your way that can keep you down. No mercy, YM. Get pissed, get functional, and get this shit out of your body NOW.

  14. clifford says:

    And pick up a few more hyphens at the store for me while you’re out. 😀

  15. christine says:

    be mad, it’s totally ok. and real. it will come and it will go. ride the waves and you’ll keep from drowning. and when you feel yourself sinking down beneath the water call out and we’ll buoy you up again

  16. Colleen says:

    These are all things that can help you fight. Your rage, your anger, your fury… “and this”… especially “and this”. Hang on to all of these and to your enormous support system.

  17. That is totelly fair. You should be angry.

    But then you see that little baby…

  18. Imstell says:

    You are brave in your rage. It’s much harder to allow ourselves to be swallowed by our primal core of emotions than to keep our tight shell of control. Much, much harder to search out the answers when we already don’t like the questions. But to go there and come back again to your softly swinging hammock “cradled by nature” still able to see the beauty of the world… that’s strength.

  19. girl says:

    Anger works… I think you deserve a little.

  20. canape says:

    Clifford. I remember how we would pick at Whymommy, ever so gently, just to see if we could rattle her unrattlable cage.

    I’m with you. Thank God for some anger. I like it too. I really like a riled up Whymommy.

    And no, there is no reason. It is just this chapter of your life. Reasons only come in hindsight. You will have hindsight soon enough.

  21. claire says:

    [runs in quietly and leaves sizeable punch-bag in middle of room. places large bar of chocolate on top. exits, stage left]

  22. Joie says:

    Hi there!

    Bumped with your blog through BlogHer. Hope you could also join a community of women here:

    http://forums.her-desk.com

    You can share your thoughts, and most especially, make friends to all women around the world.

    See you there.🙂

  23. ~JJ! says:

    Oh! Beauty. Beautiful woman.

    Feel it all..it will help you heal.

    That is a fantastic picture…it holds your future and your little baby. I feel it making you strong.

  24. Neil says:

    Although I have not had a personal experience with breast cancer in my family, over the last month and half I have read many stories and seen support given by breast cancer survivors to those recently diagnosed in this online breast cancer forum. The company I work for created it. It is similar to a Myspace for supporters, those living with breast cancer, and survivors.

    Another resource to cope with your feelings is this online breast cancer video, called Beyond the Shock. I think the name says it all.

    My prayers are with you. May God help you.

  25. Jennifer says:

    Feel that anger. It will help you beat this.

    Thank you for sharing such a beautiful picture.

  26. Linda Lawrence says:

    Keep your thoughts coming! It helps us all.
    Wow, I can’t believe how big Little Bear is getting!
    Love ya!🙂

  27. Jennie says:

    Beautiful pic! It’s OK to be mad- just do something (like you did) to relax afterwards! Take care!

  28. Jenn says:

    Amen.

    With peace and love and hope unbridled, Amen.

  29. twithhoney says:

    No one could stay angry with something that cute nearby.
    I love how you’re letting your feelings wash over yourself. Through your words I can see that it allows you to experience the anger and let it move on, wash away. Then you are left in a calm, peaceful place. The image I hear in your words looks like red building up then being washed away by a tranquil blue. Much better than red hot anger bottled up, growing hotter and more volatile inside of you.

  30. Jenster says:

    The rage is good. That’s how we fight this horrible and mean-spirited disease. But even better is how you let it have its say and then let it go.

    When you’re finished with treatment and surgery and what not the rage will come less and less, but I wonder if it ever goes away.

  31. Emily says:

    I like anger. Tell the cancer to f*ck off. Beat the crud out of it.

    The hammock is a nice idea, too.

  32. Binky says:

    Damn, this post shows such a balance of emotion and rationality. And a gripping conclusion. All in five paragraphs! I don’t think you should have any trouble spreading the word in newspapers, magazines and online in the manner you outlined a few posts back. You truly have a gift that aligns itself nicely with that purpose.

  33. practiceliving says:

    Your anger is valid. Now use it – keep it, without letting it take over, and fuel the fight with it. Let the beauty and peace of the world hold you up, and the anger drive you forward.

    That picture is breathtaking.

  34. NoMommy says:

    Unfortunately, I’ve had a lot of experience with breast cancer.

    Keep the anger, and keep having beautiful moments with your kids, both will help you beat it.

  35. Damselfly says:

    You are so right. Sometimes, there are no good reasons why. But your boy is beautiful, and I’m glad he brings you comfort.

  36. Jacquie says:

    I think the one good thing about anger is that you can take it and put it towards kick cancer butt.

    Beautiful picture btw.

  37. Leann I Am says:

    That picture is breathtaking! The ideal picture of peace and serenity. This photo could calm down even the worst mood.

  38. April says:

    When I was first diagnosed with cancer my youngest was only three and my greatest fear was that he would not remember who I was and how much I loved and wanted him. I was determined to fight with everything that I had, and it seems that you are too. Try not to stress about it (as best you can) and enjoy the small things in life.

    The picture of your son is priceless!

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