Connected by Shared Experiences and What Cancer Can’t Take Away

Diana M. Martin has published articles in the areas of parenting, health and cultural arts. When her husband lost his battle with cholangiocarcinoma, she became the sole caregiver for their son, Alex, who is autistic. Check out Diana’s blogs here!

There have been many studies that tout the usefulness of journaling on a daily basis to help with healing. As a writer, I found great difficulty trying to put pen to paper during my husband’s struggle with bile duct cancer that took his life in 2015. I much preferred to teach, sleep, care for him, eat, or do anything but write. Perhaps the emotions were too difficult to put into words. Or maybe I was not ready. Either way, years after his death, I’m able to write about this experience.

As a Reiki practitioner and professor, I am naturally an empath and take on other people’s energy. I do not like to divulge this to many because it’s difficult to explain.

Recently, I met a man whose wife was at the same treatment center for cancer at the same time that my husband, Dan, was there, approximately ten years ago. As we talked about this coincidence, I noticed that he reminded me of him. Each time we met, I felt something familiar. His mannerisms were very similar, and he was also the age that Dan would have been had he lived. Sometimes he used phrases that Dan would say and chewed the same cinnamon candies. Of course, he was different in other ways, but I gravitated to him like a moth to a flame in a record amount of time. It was like a spirit had visited to rub my back. It felt like home.

When two people have spouses who die from cancer, there can be an immediate chemistry because of the intensity of that shared experience.

Then a disagreement happened. After I made the decision to take a break from the relationship, I decided to put pen to paper. Although I am an essayist, my feelings of pain, anger, and longing arrived in the form of a poem and many, many tears. The separation brought back memories of what it was like to lose someone that I had a deep connection with. Only this time, I was the one who initiated the break, perhaps to guard myself. Perhaps to have control. Or take revenge on the spirit world for reincarnating someone I wanted to see again. It came to me like this:

What I craved and tried to make so was not real.

Please accept my apology for seeing someone in you who you are not.

If I were to love you more than a friend,

I’d spend the rest of my life looking into your eyes,

searching for souls that would never be set free.

Before and after we reconnected, I had time to process the events that led up to the separation. It was one of the most cathartic moments I had in ten years because I found my voice again. And most importantly, I opened my eyes to new possibilities, no matter how scary and uncertain they may be.

Today I know that I am lucky to have had this experience. Perhaps even blessed. I invite others to comment if they have had something similar happen to them.

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