Tarzan

I got some very sad news this weekend: one of my friends in the support group died. Her name was Mary, but she went by the handle "Tarzan."

I don't usually write about sad things in this blog. I've always seen it as a place for hope and optimism. But I need to write about Mary, so you'll just have to excuse me this one time.

Mary and I were both diagnosed with Follicular NHL at about the same time, and we joined the support group within a few weeks of each other. In her introductory post, she explained why she was calling herself Tarzan: her oncologist had told her that the good thing about fNHL was that there were so many treatments, and more on the way, that there would always be something else out there to try. Like for Tarzan swinging through the jungle, there would always be another vine to grab onto. Mary's explanation really spoke to me, and it became a great source of comfort for me during those difficult first few months after I was diagnosed. (I even wrote about it in the blog.)

It's rare that you can feel someone's passion and energy just from their writing, but you could feel it with Mary's (and I'm someone who knows and appreciates writing). Her words just radiated light and warmth.

Mary and I started sending private messages back and forth to each other every now and then, mostly short notes of encouragement. She was always very hopeful. the about nine months after we both joined, Mary was around a lot less. She wrote to me to say that she was still checking in with the group, but devoting her considerable energies elsewhere, mostly focusing on her husband, kids, and grandkids. She lived in Colorado and loved the outdoors, and I think she wanted to spend less time in front a computer and more time in front of a trout stream with her fly rod.

A few months later, Mary checked in again with an update. She'd had a heart attack around Christmas. She was expected to recover just fine, and it certainly never slowed her down. She and I continued to write to one another occasionally. She used to call me her "Little Bro."

Early last year, Mary found out she had lung cancer, and as I checked in on her, she would still respond with her hope and positivity, but it didn't sound like things were getting better. She switched treatments a couple of times, and each time she was sure that the next treatment was going to do the trick.

The online tributes to her are many and heartfelt. Apparently she was just as active and encouraging in her online lung cancer support group as she was in our lymphoma group. And I certainly wasn't the only one she corresponded with privately, as I came to find out. She touched a whole lot of people.

And the irony of it all is that while we met in a lymphoma support group, her fNHL didn't really physically affect her at all. She watched and waited for four years.

I don't think I can step back right now and intellectualize all of this, and write about how great it is to be a part of an online support group, or write about the importance of...I don't know what. I'm feeling right now, more than thinking.

Mary had a blog called "So Much More" (which I never knew about -- like me, she never mentioned her blog to the whole support group), and "so much more" was kind of her catch phrase -- there's so much more to life than cancer, so much more to do and try, so much more love to give.

I'm going to end with Mary's words. Another member of the support group who was very close to Mary posted some quotes from her notes to him. He didn't think she'd mind if he shared them, and I'm going to take a chance and make the same assumption, that neither one of them would mind if I shared.

This is a blog about hope, after all.

"Our lives are so short on this earth, it doesn't matter in whatever way we live it;
I want others to learn to be conscious of every moment...
enjoy life and try to teach others to enjoy it...
If we're 95 or 30 there is so much more: things to learn, to laugh about, to cry over,
to experience, to see, to feel and hear and taste.
Learn to savor each sense of all we are -- and can help others to be."