"When I add up all the things I'm supposed to do to fight cancer, and I subtract all the things I can't do because of cancer.....there's not much left in the day for me to do the things in life that I want to do." I heard this on more then one occassion from my brother. And now, I read something similar from my dad in his blog about losing his whole rhythm for life. For myself, I felt some of the same things this past summer went I went deep, deep, deep into my own grief. We are creatures of habit and when that is stolen from us, it leaves us reeling. Things that we enjoyed or took pleasure in are now bland and tasteless. Even the rising of the sun no longer holds any sense of promise. I have no encouraging words. I fight my own struggles every day. Just some lyrics from someone who lost too many people from his life and struggled with maintaining his own will to live. It's the quintessential struggle to survive in the midst of having your life as you know it stolen from you.
The way out
Is the way in
The way out
Is the way in...
Out of touch
With the weather and the wind direction
With the sunrise
And the phases of the moon
Out of touch
With life in the land of the loving
With the living night
And the darkness at high noon
You can never break the chain
There is never love without pain
A gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart
Out of sync
With the rhythm of my own reactions
With the things that last
And the things that come apart
Out of sync
With love in the land of the living...
A gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart
You can never break the chain
There is never love without pain
A gentle hand, a secret touch on the heart
A healing hand, a secret touch on the heart
Life is a power that remains
- 'secret touch' by neil peart
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