It is quiet here, after the service. Funerals have different effects on different people.
I am in a surreal state. My mother-in-law has passed. Her daughter, my wife of over thirty years is accordingly in a state of shock. Her breakdown has yet to surface.
It will come when least expected and, usually, in a very inapropiate location.
I have attended far too numerous a funeral. Due to the past gang violence of the past five years I can safely say that at last count I have buried 68 close friends. Top that with family members and you have far too much grief and funerals for one soul to hoist the burden.
I had vowed never to step foot in a funeral palour – this vow I reluctantly broke out of respect for Yvonne, my mother-in-law. For she was also my friend of over 40 years.
I am beside myself. This confuses my imaginary companion. I am not sure how I feel about her ascension.
As I sat in the Chapel listening to the service, I was reminded that according to my oncologists I am here for a short time coming.
As the family recited the ‘Our Father‘, I was having a battle of emotions concerning my own destiny.
I was left asking of myself, “Will they be gathered here soon for my behalf?”
“Will there be happiness and cheer as I am ritualisticly laid to rest?”
Unless you are in the position I am presently in, you can not comprehend the emotions of being diagnosed with ‘terminal cancer X 2″.
It is a mighty load for any set of shoulders.
Lest alone my emaciated pair.
The first battle left my body destroyed. I dropped 65 pounds in 10 weeks. I weigh a mere 112 pounds, dressed.
Imagine if you will, sitting, after being told that you have no chance, that your pendulum is slowing down. That soon your loved ones will be spilling tears upon your lifeless form.
I cannot be granted the luxury of “imagining” this, fore I am living the reality of the situation.
I am definitely going to ascend.
Doctors say very soon.
I am trying to stay focused on the Light before me, but melancholy and depression are clouding my vision.
Can I keep hope alive?
The love of my family, of my small inner circle of closest friends and the love and prayers from my numerous friends, both physical and virtual social media acquaintances inspires me.
But, I am tired. Very tired.
Like my Brethren Nasirium say:
“Hineni – I am ready my Lord”
My body tells a different tale.
I will live a while yet.
The pain and discomfort will increase.
My emotions will be taxed.
My mind will pray for relief.
Relief will not materialize.
Those that love me will love me.
Those that hate me will hate.
Cancerous tissue bears no pain. But, the nerves and healthy tissue surrounding the tumors screams in agony.
I will have to summon every Urban Viking cell within my body to get through the next few years.
A battle I do not cherish. A battle I shall win.
I am “The Last Canadian Cosmonaut”.
A survivor of life itself.