If I Only Knew Then...

It seems to be all over the place that October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Even NFL pro footballers and associated coaches are sporting splashes of pink that represent breast cancer awareness as are the social networking sites and so many other media outlets. People just seem more comfortable talking about cancer...that big "C" word.

This wasn't the case 28 years ago when my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. It was my first year of college and I was living 10,000 miles away in Australia when I heard him utter the words, "I've got cancer...". I was almost completely incapable of allowing those words to register in my mind. I remember thinking that with those words also came the likely death of my Dad. It's no wonder I didn't want my body to absorb the information. Unfortunately, my Dad died some four months after this initial conversation as his cancer was incurable.

Some 24 years later, I found myself studying Yoga Therapy and one of the topics was how to work with students who had cancer. My instructor was leading us through a class and demonstrating what type of language we might use and what type of postures might be beneficial. It was during the physical practice of this class that I began reflecting back into my Dad's experience and realizing how inadequately equipped I was to help him along this rocky and final part of his journey. As the practice continued, I found my inner voice saying, "I wish I knew then, what I know now. I might have been able to be with Dad in a completely different way". And then I started to sob from grief that had been stuffed down deeply into my cells and released some long held stagnation of emotion. It was quite a cleansing and "enlightening" experience.

What I have learned since is that I have become more capable at being with challenges, whether they be my own or those of others. That particular life lesson seemed at first to be cruel yet so incredibly powerful.

This week's column is dedicated to my dear friend, who underwent a lumpectomy yesterday. The surgeon "got it all" and didn't have to take any lymph nodes. Her prognosis is great and I know she'll make a full recovery as she faces her challenges through a sense of humor, realism and a ton of support from family and friends.

I know that my Dad would have been proud to know that I paid attention and learned yet another lesson from him. I feel as though I am better able to be with my close friends as they face that dreaded "C" word and hope that all of us can see that we learn so much no matter what sits before us.