I’ve never cried during a halftime show of a sports event until today. During the FIFA World Cup between Spain and Argentina, the halftime show had a theme of love and the unifying power of music. For each other and for ourselves. Chris Martin of Cold Play and Global Citizen created it. I danced around my living room and sang along, so excited to see the breadth and depth of the performers from across the world: The Muppets including Sesame Street characters and The Electric Mayhem, Shakira with Burna Boy and Ghetto Kids, Staten Island’s PS22 Chorus, Jason Sudeikis in full Ted Lasso mode, conductor Gustavo Dudamel leading the New York Philharmonic and the Simón Bolívar Symphony Orchestra, Madonna, BTS, Justin Bieber, and Emmanuel Kelly. I’ll be watching it on repeat here. An eclectic mashup full of unbridled joy is the boost I needed.
Joy was part of my care plan when I went through cancer. Every day, no matter what happened, I found something that brought me joy. Sometimes it was a song, a show or movie, a friend, a good test result, my dog, something delicious, taking a walk with my sister, sunshine. It didn’t take long after I was diagnosed to realize the secret of life is to love and be loved. It’s that simple and that complex.
Love saved me more than once on that journey – friends who got me to the ER and took care of my dog, care packages, cards, flowers, texts, phone calls, and emails when I needed to know I wasn’t alone in all this, my sister staying with me for many weeks while I recovered from surgeries, friends who got me grocery gift cards that I used when I was finally strong enough to shop for myself again, my business school friends who put together a recorded zoom and daily emails to spell out a secret message – “Stay Strong And Full Of Light.” I’m going to get that as a tattoo.
I’m reminded that in the midst of tragedy and sadness, a beauty emerges that isn’t always as apparent in good times. Maybe that’s because difficulty strips away some kind of inhibition that holds us back too often from saying and showing how we feel. During cancer I had the chance to hear things from people that are often only said during someone’s eulogy. One of the great gifts of cancer and almost dying is that I got to hear those things while very much alive. I’ll always be grateful for that and all the love that surrounded me. When I was down to nothing, love shone brighter than ever. Isn’t that something?
Christa Avampato 