Searching for Rainbows

There’s something magical about rainbows. They are elusive, intangible, and infinitely beautiful. One would expect to find such mystical creations only in paradise – the finishing touch of perfection. But rainbows weren’t intended for perfect days.

As a child, I was blessed to experience a faultless double rainbow. I stared, transfixed, until the colors washed away. It seemed, to my young heart, to be a glimpse of heaven. I still await its return. I am the brain addled mother who runs outside during summer rains, three children on my heels like little ducklings. We systematically scour the gray, miserable sky, trying to find a bit of magic. Occasionally fortune smiles on us and we find a slight vestige of color. We ooh and ahh at our little piece of rainbow, and sigh when the brightness blends into the surrounding gray. Still, we return indoors victorious – if slightly damp. The day may still be overcast and wet, but we ferreted out a bit of magic and sunshine, and stayed in the moment as long as the moment allowed. We found joy.

And then Cancer touched my world and colored it gray. I am no novice to the grayness of Cancer. It had touched and claimed my grandfather, assorted older neighbors and friends of my parents, and the occasional distant young person that I never met – but grieved for their short journey just the same. My mother lost a breast to Cancer and went bravely on - just like she battled (and won) a fight with Leukemia when I was quite young. I thought Cancer and I had an Understanding. I knew where it belonged.

I was wrong.

I was sitting in the hospital room with my best friend, a vibrant young woman with two small children, when her doctor entered. Without hesitation, he informed her she had Breast Cancer, and it had spread into her lungs and into her spine. She had no family history of the disease, she ate healthy foods, she exercised, and she nursed her babies for over a year. She even had regular breast exams, although she was still too young for mammograms.

And now she has incurable cancer. Cancer so far advanced that no one even discussed the possibility of a mastectomy. What we wouldn’t give to offer up a body part (any body part – take your choice!) to appease the Cancer demons.

I had always seen Cancer from a distance. Certainly the preferred way to view the devastation. Now I was so close I couldn’t differentiate between my friend’s health and my own. I felt my world go gray and threatening – blocking out the sunshine.

And the sunshine did not fully return.

For many months I lived wholly within the dark cloud of Cancer. The sadness that lay heavy on my chest permeated every aspect of my life. I had Cancer dreams, I was constantly thinking about Cancer – preventing it, finding it, fighting it. Living in the ashes should it consume yet another victim.

Maybe living with Cancer meant there are no more perfect days (and if you happen to chance upon one, you cherish it intensely). Maybe living with Cancer meant living with a gray cloud, with uncertainty and fear. I did normal things. But tears were my constant companion – always ready to spring forward without warning. Even in moments of joy, the sadness was always present. Even when I smiled, I cried.

Smiling through the tears reminds me of rainbow days. Even when surrounded by gray and gloom – magic and joy do exist. You just need to look for them.

I slowly re-learned how to look for rainbows – for snatches of laughter, love and magic. I spent more time cuddling my children, and listening to them. I talked with my mother, kissed my husband and pet my dogs. I laughed with friends, I read books and I dreamt about the future. I became more likely to follow through on a thought now; be it making a call, sending a note, or telling someone how much I value their contribution to my life.

And hugging. I did a LOT of hugging.

And my girlfriend? She reacted differently. After the denial, the tears, and the surgery to remove her ovaries and tack down her lung – she began taking her life inventory. She realized her days may be limited – but her choices were not.

My amazing friend reached deep within and found the strength to leave a horrible marriage. She took her children and left the man who refused to take her to the hospital for her surgery, the man who fantasized about how he wouldn’t have to work any more after receiving her life insurance benefits. She left the man who threatened her life when he realized she was serious in her desire to leave.

She made hard choices – and was terrified she was doing the wrong thing.

It wasn’t easy – but eventually her determination paid off. The cancer responded to treatment, and became dormant. The divorce eventually became final, although she ended up without health insurance, life insurance or child support, since the ex-husband refused to pay anything and she had no other resources.

Along the way she found love – and it strengthened her enough to trust in love’s power. She’s now remarried, and her children are enjoying a stable family environment for the first time. They are blossoming.

It’s not all roses.

The cancer is back. Her treatments were cancelled when she had no health insurance, and apparently it gave the cancer the opportunity to spread to her liver. Very small spots. She’s now taking different medicine and being closely monitored.

Her ex is still around, spreading evil.

But her ability to make hard choices changed her world. She now has a life worth living – and will do whatever it takes to keep enjoying it. She’s learned to live – without fear, without regret. She is an amazing woman, and I am so proud to call her my friend.

Like the rainbows I’ve always chased, she burst forth out of the gloom and made the day bright again.

I wonder if a rainbow exists inside of each of us, waiting to be called forth into play. Maybe we’ve always had the power to change darkness to light, but lack of faith in ourselves had us searching the skies, instead. Maybe – instead of looking for something outside of ourselves to change our world, we need to look a little deeper within.

I think I’ll continue my quest for rainbows, and teach my children to do the same. But instead of running outside into the rain to find remnants of hope, we’ll search for the strength within us to make our own rainbows.

We will make joy. And that – will be beautiful.

Happy Rainbows!