Pride Goeth Before a Fall
A turtle once listened to some ducks telling of all the wonders of the world they saw as they flew here and there. The more he listened, the more he wanted to travel all over the world too.
Two ducks offered to help him. “I you will take hold of this stick with your mouth, we will each hold an end and we will carry you through the air so you can see the whole countryside. But you must promise not to talk. You must promise to keep your mouth shut.”
The turtle was happy to promise. He grabbed hold of the stick and away sailed the two ducks and the turtle. They sailed up higher than the trees. They sailed up into the clouds. Just then a crow flew by. “What a foolish sight,” he called. “What is a turtle doing flying through the clouds?”
“I will have you know,” said the turtle. But he never finished his explanation for the minute he opened his mouth to say these foolish words, he fell to the ground.
I think I may have mentioned that I visit and comment on another blog. I feel like the turtle risking falling from the sky when I say this, but I was rather chuffed to read this. You have to scroll all the way to the end to see what I am talking about.
But then, who really wants to be either known or praised for writing comments on a depressing cancer blog? People from all over the world writing heart-wrenching commentary on either their own or their loved one's battle with this disease. I think the toughest one for me to read was this one. Not so much the entry, as the comments. (And, Mara, you are so busted! I just went and reread the comments and I see they were 'added to'! )
Actually, Mara, what I want to say is, "Thank you. I almost missed it. I'm glad I didn't."
You know, I think that about sums up my feelings toward life itself.
Comments
Maman, I don't think that it is depressing - certainly not just because it's a cancer blog. We've had a lot of those discussions ourselves - and more, in my opinion, but I certainly understand the attraction to it. Strength in numbers, in voice, a place where you (and I!) belong. I find it is much more hopeful than depressing. It was heart-wrenching to read of the woman who had been closed out by her friend with cancer. I just couldn't imagine my pain if you told me about your cancer via hospice, for example, because you hadn't wanted to hurt me/interrupt my life/etc. It means SO MUCH to me that we are going through this with you as much as we can.
And in retrospect (and reading others experiences), I realize how overwhelmingly blessed our family is with our family and friends who did nothing, nothing, but support us in every conceivable way. The cards that arrived every single day, strangers (strangers!) who called with blessings and kind words, and the F-O-O-D. Oh my goodness, the food. I don't know how those of us who were caring for you would have survived if there hadn't been so many generous friends to bring us food. Granted, I got really sick of soup, but we were so absorbed in the importance of getting the right care and food for you that (Nathan and I anyway) were basically down to eating cheese and crackers. The importancce of this kind gesture was definitely driven home for me during that time. I hadn't realized that I might need some taking care of as well.
Posted by: Mara | September 23, 2006 9:03 AM
Maman, I agree one hundred percent with Mara.
Those are words I'd never thought I'd say, but nevermind.
I'm really grateful for everyone who brought by the food. And I am so glad you told us and wish we'd known sooner and more and would rather worry and act and not have something happen then not worry and have to miss you and wish I'd known. And if something else happens, I'll want to know that, too.
That's what a family is, right? Sharing the joy from the good and helping carry the pain of the bad. The first makes the joy greater and the second makes the pain lessen.
Posted by: Nathan | September 25, 2006 7:25 AM