Beach Grass: This Community's Strong Roots
All my life I’ve been an introvert and a loner. Even in high school I didn’t belong to any clicks. I wasn’t a jock, or a nerd, or one of the “in” crowd. I mixed well with all of those groups, but I preferred my own company. I was never lonely, I just felt I didn’t need the support of others. Of course, I had a few close friends who were independent like me. One of them, a bright, gorgeous girl, became my wife.
Roots run deep
I think my independent attitude started to change when we had children. Suddenly, there were little people that needed me. I fell into fatherhood easily the moment I held my newly born daughter. Then my son was born, and the same feelings of joy and responsibility flooded me. It all happened so naturally. For the first time in my life, I was part of a group, one I wanted to be in, a family.
There’s a tall grass that grows on the beaches in Puget Sound. It thrives in the gravel and sand and is almost impossible to pull out. Its roots go deep and form a strong underground web. Without it, the beach would be washed away in the winter storms. It even survives the corrosive saltwater that would kill most other plants.
A writing gig or something more?
I’ve been writing for Blood-Cancer.com since November 2018. When I started out, I thought it was just a writing gig. I hoped my writing might help others, but beyond that I was in it for the writing; I love to write. Since then, I’ve learned there is so much more to it than that.
My leukemia is in the wait and watch stage so I am very lucky. Many of our members have conditions much worse than mine, yet their comments are often encouraging and supportive, not just to me but to the whole community.
Many share how they find ways to cope with their disease. Some pray, some find strength in friends and family, and some distract themselves by helping others. But there is a common theme: they’re not letting their disease define them.
A stopping place along our journey
This site is a way station. A stopping place along our journey. It’s like a bare-board porch outside a local watering hole in one of those old westerns where people sit in rockers or on empty whiskey barrels, and chew the fat. We talk about life, about our worries and triumphs.
Even though we’ve never met and know little about each other’s personal lives, we have a common bond. We are warriors fighting the same foe.
Finding strength in other blood cancer patients
I don’t mean to sound overly dramatic and this post isn’t an advertisement for Blood-Cancer.com. It’s just meant as a reminder that we are not alone. Like that beach grass, we draw our strength from each other.
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