As I steel myself for the next attack, I wonder where to conjure greater strength, hers as well as mine. Though her garrison remains her primary defense in this siege, they are not her sole source of strength. Even in war, strength is not measured in steel alone.
My strength comes from her. Each morning she dons a gladiator's sleeve to armor her sword arm, performing tai chi rituals to control her new condition. Each day she confronts the scars on the two visible signs of her gender, her breasts and her hair. When the former betrayed her, she pooled the latter at her feet, shearing it away before it, too, could abandon her. Every other week she faces a fresh assault with a body barely recovered from the last.
For her, strength is delivered in the dispatches of a fellow amazon besieged by a more aggressive force yet still offering words of encouragement and compassion, in hearing the tales of her adventure, in the steel in her spine when she confronts powerful mages and generals who are reluctant to press her attack.
Strength gathers with her band of sisters who laugh in the face of their shared trauma. Like marines in a bivouac, they cope with dark humor, though, unlike the few and proud, their laughter intends to heal, not to harm.
Strength arrives with the courier bearing a daily message from a childhood friend whose love and humor remain untarnished like 24-karat gold.
These are the three faces of her personal Morrigan, avatars of the triple Irish goddess of war. They are the inheritors in Boudicca, immortalized for battling the Romans first as a mother then a queen.
One day the attacks will cease, the scars will fade, the rituals will transform to rote. Her hair will again weave fire down her back. Until that day she is grateful for their voices, as am I knowing that their altos and sopranos will balance the baritones in Valhalla when shining Valkyries ride to reinforce their numbers.
© 2007 Edward P. Morgan III
--------------------------------
ReplyDeleteNotes and asides:
--------------------------------
By this point in Karen’s treatment, I was pretty worn down. I’d been on alert and trying to contingency plan for about three months. As well as making sure Karen was taken care of, I was trying to keep an eye on the house and the cats so that I didn’t miss any routine maintenance and get surprised when something suddenly got out of hand.
As I looked around for a source of inspiration, I found none greater than Karen herself. She had adapted to her situation remarkably well. Every morning she did her lymphedema exercises without a word and put on her sleeve. She went to her appointments without dragging her feet. Most weeks, she either worked from home or went in to the office. She helped with cooking when she could despite my objections. She did all that without complaining. If I was looking for a source of strength, I needed to look no farther than my wife. If she could do it without complaining, so could I.
There were three sets of people sustained Karen throughout treatment. First was a woman she’d met on the BreastCancer.org website the first time each of them was in the chatroom after being diagnosed. The second was a local woman who had been through treatment and was helping to support others as they went through it. Both were lifelines in a stormy sea.
The third was a high school friend of Karen’s. As soon as her friend heard what was going on, she started writing Karen every day. Her notes were usually short, and almost always funny. Karen looked forward to reading them every day. Her friend’s mother had been treated for cancer many years before, so she knew what Karen was going through. Three years later, they still send each other messages every day. That’s what I mean by a 24k friend. She’s the kind few of us ever have, and all the more precious for it.
Picture notes: Another picture from Wales (do you sense a theme?), this of one of the gates to Beaumaris Castle out on Anglesey. Beaumaris was built by Edward I after to serve as a visible reminder of English military strength after crushing a Welsh rebellion. I more side with the Welsh on that one, but it’s still impressive.
ReplyDelete