It all started with a simple text from my husband, “FYI, neighbors are having a block party.” I was driving home from close to two weeks out of town. I was about an hour from home when the text came through. Block parties are not unusual on our street. Once or twice a year there is a get together where 5 or 6 houses gather and watch a movie or a football game on a large screen in someone’s yard. Little did I know that this particular block party would be a story of survivors.
An Unexpected Funeral
As I pulled my 15 year old rumbling car up outside of my house I saw about 20 neighbors gathered at the property across the street catty corner to my own. An old multi general home, this small yard tended to be where all our block parties initiated. After unloading the car my husband and I grabbed a couple drinks and headed over.
Bursts of laughter came from groups of neighbors scattered here and there drinks in hand. BBQ smoke wafted on the breeze, tables were piled high with tasty food, and our local football team played on a big screen tv set up on a table. It was the very picture of neighborly togetherness.
I joined one of the groups, was greeted with friendly “Hellos”, and listened to the conversation. First it was just general neighborhood banter but within a minute or two the conversation turned to something more serious. I realized that this was not a block party at all…this was a funeral.
Remembering Kindness
Ernest, the kind elderly man who lived in the house I was standing in front of, was the epitome of neighborly love. He and his niece Tina had been my neighbors for more than five years. In fact, they had both grown up in the humble home, attended our local schools, and raised children of their own in that very same family home.
Ernest was one of those people who just made you smile. He had mastered the art of chuckling. When something struck him as funny (and there were many things), he slapped his hand on his knee and rocked back and forth in laughter with an ear-to-ear smile brightening his face. He walked the paper from the street up to the doorway of our neighbors’ house every single morning, just to be nice.
Our homes were just far enough apart that he and I had to yell and make exaggerated hand waves to say “Hello!” but every time our paths crossed, I was sure to hear, “Hellooooo, young lady! Have a great day today!” He was kind to everyone for no reason at all.
I quickly learned that just after I had left town he had fallen, gone into the hospital, and passed away. While in the hospital his family learned he had widely metastatic cancer that had “spread everywhere”. We all noticed he was losing weight recently but still his passing was a surprise.
I have never been one for funerals and have for the most part avoided them. But this funeral was lovely. It was truly a celebration of life and togetherness. There were occasional tears and sad moments, but for the most part love was in the air.
I Find A Fellow Survivor
In a quiet moment I noticed Tina sitting by herself. I sat next to her and asked how she was doing. She shook her head and said she did even know how to feel. She then told me after Ernest’s passing a family dispute over inheritance of the house left her questioning whether she would be evicted. Not only had she lost her uncle, she now questioned whether she would lose her lifelong home.
Not knowing quite what to say I leaned in and said, “I’m not sure if you know, but last year I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I understand what it’s like to lose something.” She then leaned in as she pulled her t shirt down enough to show a 6 inch healed half moon scar across her breast…”Two time survivor, breast cancer and ovarian cancer,” she said. For the second time that day I was floored. We were on different parts of the same journey and had no idea until that moment. It took the loss of Ernest to cancer for us to open up about our own journeys.
We talked about what we had learned from our cancers…about being grateful and about love. We talked about how the only two things in this life that can’t be taken away are faith and love. I could tell that her cancer journey had brought her to many of the same realizations my journey had brought me. I wished with all of myself that I could help her.
She was soon pulled away by other guests but before she left, I told her I loved her and that if there was anything she needed, anything at all, to please let me know.
The party stretched into the evening hours. More people came. We blocked the street with road cones and cars. They played the music loud. We did line dances like the Cupid Shuffle and Cha Cha Slide in the middle of the street. Groups of children played and chased balloons. It was the perfect celebration of life.
The Loss Hits Home
It wasn’t until I finally left for home that I was overwhelmed by the sadness of the day. A fellow survivor lost their battle to cancer. That is when the tears came. I didn’t cry for Ernest so much, who is in a much better place now, but I cried for Tina. The loss she was facing was staggering. Not only was she experiencing the loss and grief of the passing of her uncle, a close family member, roommate, and friend, but she has now lost her financial stability and potentially even her home.
It just seemed cruel that someone should have to go through not one cancer but two cancers…enough suffering and loss for two lifetimes…only to 5 years later face losing a home. Shouldn’t having cancer be enough? Hasn’t she paid her karmic dues? Wasn’t she due for some goodness and stability in her life?
And what does that mean for me? Are major tragedies in my future? I feel like I’ve already lived through more suffering, pain, and loss than anyone should have to go through…how many more tragedies do I have in me?
Once again, I am feeling powerless. Powerless in the face of fate which can clearly be exceeding cruel to survivors… and powerless to help Tina. I desperately wish I could help her. In my stable pre-cancer life I could have paid her attorney’s fees so she could at least have a chance to fight for her house. But now I am unstable myself and unable to help her financially. Her situation and my own are reminders that we are not in control of the hand we are dealt in life and must do the best with what we are given.
Finding The Faith
But here is where I must give Tina credit for her strength. In the midst of her current suffering, Tina is still able to focus on how grateful she is to be surrounded by love. And she has faith that a solution will present itself. She does not have the money to hire an attorney but believes that God will provide for her somehow.
I am also struggling with a similar need for faith in my own journey. Though I am not currently at risk of losing my home, I am living with instability. For the first time in my life, I am forced to live paycheck to paycheck…not because of lavish spending but because I have chosen to prioritize my health and wellbeing over income.
It is a hard journey for every survivor…but that’s what we do, we survive. And when the next loss comes, we will survive that. And in my own case, someday when I am stable again and able to help other survivors, I will. After all, the world can make us sick, it can take our homes, it can take our money, it can steal our stability, but it can never take our love. And so I will give Tina love because right now it is all I can give her. And I will have faith that both she and I will find our ways through the dark and back into the light no matter what it takes.
*Names have been changed to protect privacy.
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