The fight was real.
It was tangible.
I fought for her.
I fought cancer.
I fought for her right to a long life, I fought for her right to a life at all
I fought for our love.
Tooth and nail. Blood sweat and tears, so many tears.
It was my purpose. I woke up knowing exactly what needed to be done; help Lil live the shit out of life. Do whatever it takes to fight for her health, but spend every moment possible giving her all the experiences of a life time. It was my war and cancer was my enemy.
But what do you do when all you have known is the fight?
Over the past 2 years that’s all I’ve been trying to figure out. What do I do if I can’t fight. What do I stand up for, what does my heart beat for, what do my feet move for, what does my soul yearn for? What do I do, if I can’t fight. Because she was my cause, the thing I yelled for, prayed for, bled for, sweat for. She was my battle cry and my victory dance. She was my fight.
The fight that defined me is gone and I lay amongst the carnage, broken, lost and confused.
The thing is, though, I don’t think the fight ever left. I think it just shifted into something I couldn’t really recognize. There was a cease fire, a truce, after she died so I could bandage up my open wounds. But I can hear the sharpening of blades across the field. The clanging of armour, the shuffling of feet. I can feel the fire in my stomach burning, rising up and up and up. The fight never left. The fight is now for her memory. The fight is to REMIND people that she lived, her name on lips near and far, her courage igniting courage with in people across the world. The fight is keeping what she taught each one of us, alive. Because she is not. But if I don’t let it, death doesn’t have to be the end of her, but instead what freed her from the body that held her back. I am now the vessel for her lessons, for her example and experiences. My fight is to find ways to use her love, her lessons, her life to be someone else’s light, to help someone else find their courage or just to walk along a broken soul who thinks that they are completely alone on an unknown path.
I dont know, for certain, my purpose on this earth, but the more I learn, the more I understand that I don’t need to. Because I am now a conduit for the expression of the human condition and I am the manufacturer of the play book for existence (and so are you). I am in this for the moments. All of them. And my communication skills are what they are so that I can script and you can relate. So I can write what’s in your heart and you can say “how did you know” and I’ll reply “you are not in this alone”
meaning, love, adrenaline, pain, hate, fear, passion, empathy, grief, doubt.
This; All of it.
The fight is for the moments. The fight is for connection. The fight, my fight, isn’t just for me, to stay alive, to BE alive. My fight is now for YOU. You who read this and say “yeah, Chels, me too.” You who’s heart is connect to mine through the screen of a computer or phone. My fight is for me, and my fight is for you.
Lilee taught us the things we need to remember as time ticks forward, things like
Love is worth pain
Life is worth pain
There IS something in every day to be grateful for, even something microscopic.
Silliness is necessary if you want to actually feel alive
and, as always, To Dance In The Rain of our lives.
and now I am here, not to teach, but maybe to lead by example, then fail miserably, then get back up, brush my self off, probably laugh, and then do it all over again. Lilee connected us and I let it all go. I dropped the ball, you guys. I’ve been this little hermit of a human afraid to do, too lazy to do, to self absorbed to do.
Now, its time for me to DO. not just speak, not just write.
So here is where you come in. If you are reading this, help me connect with you. Have you sent me something in the past couple of years and never heard back? have you sent a letter, gift, message, flowers, helped with the child run last year or did anything for me, and didn’t get a thank you? I mean.. I can be proactive and just say THANK YOU right now, because, THANK YOU. But I wan’t to get a little more personal than that(because Lilee would have reached out and taken your hand, picked you a flower and shown you something that amazed her). So email me (firstname.lastname@example.org) and send me your address (or then I’ll have your email address if you prefer that avenue of correspondence) so that I can do the right thing, the proper thing, and say thank you with the same amount of love and effort as you used to lift me up. And hey, if you just need a little encouragement, want a pen pal, had a little wine and need someone to talk to that you think might “get it.” Write me. Speak out. I am here, just as you all have been for me. I am ready for a changing of seasons, from receiving to giving.
So the fight isn’t gone. It’s just changed,
I’m still suffering, I’m still hurting. I still miss her with every single ounce of everything that I am. I always will. And as long as you read, I’ll keep writing it all down. But somehow, in some shift,through some change, It’s not completely about me any more and I’m ready for it.
So I’ll wake up every day and say “Lilee” like I always do, but instead of just trying to survive, I will also try to live like her, and through me maybe someone else will be able to see the light and feel the love that she so willingly gave to all of us. And although her heart has stopped, mine will beat on with the rhythm of her life.
pulling out the stationary…