Living the Dance

Carolyn came to church Sunday. That was a real treat. Carolyn hasn’t been to church for a couple of months. Carolyn has cancer. Let me rephrase that, Carolyn is dying of cancer.



She’s been missing church since they inserted the port and began the chemo treatments. The treatments were not an effort to cure her disease. The treatments were to extend her life – a few months. But sometimes the treatment is worse than the disease. Whenever she had the treatment she was miserable. The after effects were completely dibilating. She became a permanent occupant of the living room sofa, drained of the energy required to move about.



Last Tuesday, Carolyn told the doctor life had many definitions. She told him she wanted her life defined by quality. “Take these damn tubes out.” He did.

Carolyn’s the church organist. But she was sitting in the back of the church before the service. She looked simply radiant. Her face was beaming. I walked back to greet her. “You want me to play?” she asked, not wanting to intrude on the young pianist who, in Carolyn’s absence, has begun to take over the music.



“You feel up to playing?” I asked.



“Parson, I feel up to dancing."



I extended my arm. She took it. And several of the blue hairs stared in shocked wonder as the parson and the organist did the Texas Two Step down the center aisle to the chancel.

“Why, thank you parson,” she said when we arrived behind the altar rail. “I had no idea you could dance so well.”



“And I,” said I, “am wondering where the daughter of a Baptist preacher learned to dance like that.”



“I did go to college,” she said. “And I had enough sense not to go to a Baptist school.”

She played for the entire service. The young pianist took second seat. And Carolyn was simply bouncing on the bench.



After the service we talked about her decision. She shared how some of the family had wanted her to keep up the treatments. She was concerned about them. “But,” she said, “I want to live until I die.”



“How much time do you have?” I asked.



“Enough, parson, I’ve got enough time for a couple more dances with you.”

Comments

[Carolanne]

Beautiful.
Reminds me of one of my favourite songs that Michael W Smith sings called, This Is Your Time: This is your time. this is your dance.
Live every moment. leave nothing to chance.
Swim in the sea. drink of the deep.
Follow the mercy and hear yourself praying.

[forget me not]

This is beautiful. It reminds me of my aunt rose, who is dying of cancer. I haven't seen her in about 35 years, since she divorced from my uncle, who died recently. His death brought us together again. She is an accomplished pianist and told me she still enjoys playing when she has enough strength to get out of bed. I dont' think she is getting treatment anymore, she is just doing things to try to make her more comfortable.

[Anonymous Visitor]

Absolutely beautiful! She sounds like someone who knows where she's going!

Thanks for sharing your beautiful writings.
Vicki

[cathyknits]

What a beautiful story. May Carolyn dance and play more - let the blue hairs talk :)