Category: loss

courage, death, family, health, loss

My Year of Hopefulness – Bearing defeat without losing heart

Christa Avampato

“The greatest test of courage on the earth is to bear defeat without losing heart.” – R. G. Ingersoll

I read this quote last week on Twitter (http://www.twitter.com/tamow) and knew I wanted to blog about it though couldn’t decide on how to steer this post. This morning I sadly realized how critical it is for us to have courage. I am beginning to think that it might be the most vital skill we can develop and cultivate.

My mom let me know that my Great Aunt Lorraine passed away this morning. In her mid-80’s, she lived a largely healthy and incredible happy life, one that my grandmother would define as “good, clean living”. Honest, hard working, and loving, my Aunt Lorraine was thoughtful and generous, never forgetting a birthday or anniversary. I will miss her. She went through several bouts of cancer and chemotherapy eventually got the best of her.

She passed away from a from condition called MDS, a chemotherapy-induced form of leukemia. Chemotherapy is a poison, and the hope is that in targeted doses it will kill the cancer before killing the person being treated. Chemotherapy gave my Aunt Lorraine extra years that she would not have had otherwise, though I always find it discouraging to hear that science has failed us in some way. When she was first diagnosed, I was angry with her doctors. No wonder some people refuse treatment all together. Who wants those toxic substances floating around their bodies to cause unspeakable pain and suffering later on?

The art of medicine, and those who seek treatment through it, are engaging in a constantly morphing, emerging field. When someone is lost because science couldn’t save them, there is cause to feel defeated and disappointed by doctors, the very heroes who are supposed to literally save us. The truth is that we can’t give up on medicine, on the process of trial and error, on the development of new processes and treatments. Without taking these risks, advancement isn’t possible. And advancements let my family have my Aunt Lorraine for as long as we did, in relatively good health. She had great courage to continue fighting cancer and she never lost heart. Her doctors pushed forward doing the best they could to give her more time. They had great courage, too.

My Aunt Lorraine’s passing is also a reminder that our time here is short and precious. The times we’re living in are testing us to the nth degree, and many are walking around disillusioned and disappointed, in themselves, in the failings of their government and financial system, in their companies. I understand that feeling, and on occasion I share it.

Many times in our lives, we will have to bear defeat, learn from it, get up, and keep going. With hope of better days, it’s a little easier to keep going. As I’ve said before, hope isn’t a strategy for success. It’s a tool to make the journey easier, and it makes courage more attainable. My Aunt Lorraine had hope that the chemotherapy treatments she endured would help her live longer. And she was right. I am inspired by her ability to look defeat in the eye and hang on to her heart, her family. We must all do the same – the alternative is not an option if we intend to live as well and as long as she did.

death, dying, experience, family, friendship, grateful, gratitude, human factors, loss, sadness

My Year of Hopefulness – Trade-offs

Christa Avampato

Be glad of life because it gives you the chance to love and to work and to play and to look up at the stars. –Henry Van Dyke

A friend of mine recently lost his father and as we talked about loss, we delved into the topic of trade-offs. It’s part of life to enjoy good, happy times for a while. And yet somewhere in the back of our minds, we are conscious of the fact that these moments are fleeting. Part of experiencing life, and love, and a connection to others also requires us to have the ability to let go. It’s an odd and scary thing if we think about it too long, so it usually comes to us as a passing thought, and then we send it away.

I used to have a very hard time dealing with the loss of someone. It seemed so unfair to me to have someone we love taken away. Was it really worth it to feel a connection to people? Did it make sense to spend so much of our very brief time on this planet cultivating relationships with others that eventually fall away, for one reason or another.

Many years ago, a friend of mine was dealing with the loss of his grandfather. Knowing how much he loved his grandfather and how close he was to him, I expressed my extreme sympathy for his loss. And without a tear in his eye or a choked up feeling in his throat, he said, “Please don’t be sorry. I’m not.” I just couldn’t understand. How on Earth could he not be sorry?

“I had this amazing person in my life for so many years. I was so lucky to know that kind of love and closeness to someone for so long. He taught me an amazing amount throughout my whole life that I’m able to pass on to others. He was such a gift and I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to have him in my life.”

I think about this conversation every time I or someone I care about must deal with losing someone. It’s so hard to imagine letting go, and I find that emphasizing the gift of their presence in our lives for however long we have them eases the sadness. It doesn’t eliminate the sadness and it doesn’t betray the person’s memory. It just helps us keep perspective, and we helps us to begin to understand that it is all worth. The cultivation of relationships is what this life we live is all about. They are the very essence of human experience.