It’s been awhile…

I have been away for quite sometime.

Hmmmm…

There was a time when that meant one thing, and one thing only.

Thankfully, that is no longer the case. Being arrested, locked up, in custody, in jail, going to court, facing remand, pleading my case….

All things that I remember well. And I remain grateful that today, they are not part of my life.

I am also grateful – believe it or not – that they once were a part of my daily existence. The chaos. The uncertainty. The unbelievable amounts of stress. The pain, and heartache. The darkness.

For they all helped to bring me to where I am today. To shape the man that I am now, and the man that I will become tomorrow. To provide perspective. Contrast. Point of view.

I am looking out of the window of my apartment in Vanier, lamenting the mid-March blizzard that has befallen us. Pining for the warmer weather, the melting of the snow, the cleansing rains of spring – all so that I may once again climb into the saddle of my iron steed and commence yet another season of travels, explorations and discoveries.

God I miss my bike.

Yet neither of these two facets of my life are what brought me back to the keyboard.

No. What brought me back to writing this blog is love.

And my absolute joy about being free to accept it. And to give it. To feel it, and acknowledge it. To learn of it, and grow with it.

Susie brought me back to you, my friends and fellow travelers.

You remember Susie. I introduced you to her on May 30 of 2012, just as I was preparing to head off on my Epic Motorcycle Adventure to the Rockies.

During that trip out west, I made a lot of discoveries. About myself and my life. About travelling the open road. About how infinitesimally small we are in the great big scheme of things. About the things that are important to me. About what friendship means to me.

And it was on that trip that I came to realize that I loved this woman.

Susie underwent 39 chemotherapy sessions between May of 2012 and December of 2013.

In December she was told that the chemo was no longer working.

This is the type of news that can, and often does precede the quick downturn and eventual death of stage 4 cancer victims.

Thankfully, Susie has never considered herself a victim. Nor have any of those who surrounded her and buoyed her through these last 2 years.

Susie and I became very close during this time. I expressed my love, Susie smiled and gave me the ‘I am flattered, but…’, and a friendship began to blossom that is quite unlike any that I have had before.
There is a great amount of information available espousing the undeniable benefits of laughter. And the healing power of love.

Susie and I have shared an inordinate amount of time engaged in belly-clenching, tears-streaming, gut-rolling laughter. And she has been surrounded by love every day. From her parents, her brothers and sister, her cousins, her boyfriend, her aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews – just an incredible number of people took the time to make sure that she knew – and knows – that she is loved.

On Friday, February 28, 2014 Susie underwent 9 hours of surgery.

Surgery that at least one surgeon tried to talk her out of. Because it was, in that surgeon’s words – a waste of time. Because Susie was certain to be filled with cancer – both old and new. According to the surgeon.
We protested. We invited the surgeon to consider quality of life aspects that may have been overlooked.

Having been told that chemo was no longer working, quality of life was Susie’s focus.

Several weeks and 9 hours of surgery later, that same surgeon came to address the family members who were present, as well as Susie’s boyfriend Mike and myself.

And the surgeon looked at each of us. Smiled. And said “it is really quite a miracle, actually.”

It seems that they found no disease, only scar tissue.

Susie’s stage 4 colon cancer – which at one point had metastasized and spread to her lung, liver, abdomen, lymph nodes and ovary – was no where to be seen.

Through 39 chemotherapy sessions this woman kept telling everyone that she was going to be fine.
Through more than half a dozen CT scans. Countless blood tests. Twice weekly visits to the Ottawa Integrative Cancer Center. Hair loss. Weight gain. The never-quite-gone looming darkness and fear of the disease.

Through all of it Susie kept her smile. Shared her laughter. Loved and received love.
There is an undeniable and incredible healing power that comes from within all of us and that is all of us. It is the one thing that can connect us to all that is and all that ever was. For thousands of years we have tried to ascribe ethereal identities and nomenclature to it. We have written rules to be abided by and oaths to be given. We have taught and been taught that it is a power to be deigned upon the deserving. The worthy. The righteous.

It is the power of love.

It is free. Just open your heart.

I discovered on my trip out west in 2012 that I was capable of loving another person as I do myself.
The greatest gift that I have ever received.

Matched very recently by a team of surgeons who said “she is doing great. It looks like she is going to be fine”

“I have always known in my heart that I was going to be okay” Susie said just the other day.

None of us is certain of what tomorrow holds. But today brought the promise of a tomorrow.
That is more than enough.

You are undeniably the strongest person that I have ever met Susie.
I love you. And am so very grateful to have you in my life.
Joe E.