Tree of Hope

Diane and I continue to enjoy our time in paradise on Marco Island. It has been an absolutely wonderful, restful, and enlightening time in our lives. Today I took another of my "early morning walks" meaning I was out of the condo at 4:50 a.m. and returned at 7:20. I was able to walk about 10 miles, partly on the sidewalk and partly on the beach. I start out in the dark and enjoy the tranquility but at about 6 a.m. the sky begins to lighten up a bit, and I am joined by other walkers and joggers. These early sojourns provide intellectual stimulation of a sort to me as I reflect on all that is life and where mine has taken me. Today "new friends" popped into my mind. We have seen many "old" friends on this trip, and it has been fun to reconnect and retell some old stories from our shared experiences, but today my focus was on the "new" folks and how they have impacted my view of reality.

These people come from diverse walks of life but they all share the common denominator of cancer affecting one of the spouses. No one makes a big deal of it but the “c” word does creep into the conversation. We all think about the next PET scan or scope or whatever procedure is on the horizon to monitor our progress. All of these people and their spouses are grateful that we have, as cancer survivors say, "no evidence of disease" (NED) at this time. One of the survivors has not been so lucky as she lost her husband four years ago. Diane struck up a conversation with her on the beach and in talking about family she mentioned that she was an ovarian cancer survivor but her husband had not been so fortunate. Diane said, “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.” Our new friend replied, "Yes, I miss him so much." Diane came back to where I was sitting, and we both just sat there in silence as we contemplated our good fortune.

As I proceeded on my walk today to a largely deserted part of the beach at the north end of the island, I passed a dead tree with shells hanging from it. Now these are special shells, special in that they have holes in them so individuals can hang them from the tree. Shells with holes in them are hard to find. I watched as a couple of people put shells on the tree and inquired as to why they had done so. One lady replied, "to honor my husband, he's gone now" and a young girl told me "to provide hope for my sister who has leukemia." How neat--a dead tree made alive by people putting shells on the branches symbolizing loved ones. The message had been delivered so I have been scouring the beach for my own "shells with holes" and I found six which I intend to add to that old tree this afternoon: one each in memory of my Mom and brother Doug who left this world too soon at ages 47 and 54 respectively, one to give thanks that Diane's folks remain with us, and one each for the three "new" friends we have met that they may remain cancer free and healthy for the rest of their lives.

I enjoy my walks on the beach. I never know what new thought or adventure they will bring my way.