Stronger

Accompanying the man who loves me to the oncologist yesterday, it felt like a lonely trudge through the dark parking garage to the elevators. We got lost looking for the second set of elevators that led to the office wing of the hospital and ended up at the hallway that led to the maternity floor. There was a cluster of people holding a bunch of balloons, and for a second I envisioned a sign with diverging arrows: LIFE/DEATH.

But when we opened the door to the oncologist's office, the waiting area was bursting with people and a hum of conversation. It didn't feel dark and lonely at all. ALL of these people have cancer,  I thought. It was both alarming and weirdly comforting. And the realization that followed was even more comforting. It wasn't true at all that everyone in the waiting room had cancer. Each patient was there with someone. When a names was called, groups of threes and fours went through the door that led to the exam rooms. We needed a maître d'--"Party of three to exam room #1"--not a receptionist. Which made me think of this:

The title of this print by Balinese artist, I Made Arya Dwita Dedok, is Stronger

I own this artwork, and it hangs on my living room wall. I met the ARTIST at a residency at the Vermont Studio Center.

We are carried along by so many others, and I think the willingness to be carried makes us stronger--not weaker. I was able to spend the day away from home because daughter M was with my mom. And we also enjoyed the first day with Rosa--a woman who may become a regular companion for my mother. The comfort and help from M and Rosa infuses me with strength, and I give thanks for it.