Cancer won't take a holiday this week.
You probably know someone recently diagnosed - I know too many who've heard those ominous words in the last weeks.
I also know many who are gallantly confronting their cancer, determined to join the sixty-two percent of us who shout our survival to the world.
Christmas is an appropriate occasion of course, to remind ourselves - with or without cancer - that each day is a gift from God, from which we should squeese every moment. The day can't be banked for when we're not busy, or for later in life. It's not retreivable. I always beleived of living to the max, and even more so, after my diagnosis and treatment. My motto is borrowed from the inspirational Jean Vanier, "live today well", for this is the only day we can be sure we have.
Take time this holiday season to tell everyone you love, that you love them. Look them in the eye, and tell them they are important to your life. Let them know you care for them and appreciate their thoughtfulness, their affection for you.
My family is like many - we're dysfunctional and all over the place - yet I will ensure I let each of them know I love them. How they helped me through my cancer adventure (the two older granddaughters served me pie and ice cream in the recovery room after surgery!), and give me the reason to cdelebrate each day.
I hope that each one of you finds peace and love.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
This Christmas, spare a thought - and a prayer - for the more than 3,000 men and women serving Canada in almost 24 countries around the world. They're on duty at sea, in the air, on the desert, in the hills, so that we may truly celebrate this season.
The best Christmas of my life was spent three years ago, in Afghanistan, with more than two thousand troops of the Canadian military. General Rick Hillier, a fellow Newfoundlander, made it his goal to shake hands and say thank you to every man and woman serving Canada in Afghanistan and the Persain Gulf. A group of us - comedian Rick Mercer, singer songwriter Damhanait Doyle, actor Mary Walsh, the Montreal rock group Jonas, and three high ranking Conservative Mps - John Baird, Jay Hill, and Laurie Hawn - joined him in bringing support from home. It was amazing.
On the front lines, General Hillier and his staff served the holiday meal, warily eying across the dusty fields for Taliban. In the camp, more than one thousand of them were served turkey dinners that day by their commanding officers, including General Hillier. Our troupe performed - a la Bob Hope - to offer some joy on this Christmas so far from home. Because it's a war zone, all the soldiers at the concert - and at dinner - keep their guns at their side. I remember telling Mercer, "you'd better be funny - they've all got guns if you;re not!" He was.
While all of them wished they could be with their loved ones, none complained about being on mission. On board HMCS Ottawa, it was overwhelming to join Damhanait as she and the 250 soldiers on board - sand O Canada, an Iranian plane watching overhead. In Kandahar, I wished one officer a Merry Christmas...he looked up and asked, is it Christmas Day yet?
All through the camp, you could see the letters and notes and banners sent by supporting Canadians back home. I ever found one signed at the Ottawa EX by the CTV crew that summer. The troops treasure the words from home. They strongly beleive in what they're doing there - and fear that back in Canada, the support may be slipping.
They kept thanking us for giving up our Christmas to be there with them. Oh, we didn't give up anything - and we got so much in return.
Merry Christmas - across the miles. And thanks for our freedoms.
The best Christmas of my life was spent three years ago, in Afghanistan, with more than two thousand troops of the Canadian military. General Rick Hillier, a fellow Newfoundlander, made it his goal to shake hands and say thank you to every man and woman serving Canada in Afghanistan and the Persain Gulf. A group of us - comedian Rick Mercer, singer songwriter Damhanait Doyle, actor Mary Walsh, the Montreal rock group Jonas, and three high ranking Conservative Mps - John Baird, Jay Hill, and Laurie Hawn - joined him in bringing support from home. It was amazing.
On the front lines, General Hillier and his staff served the holiday meal, warily eying across the dusty fields for Taliban. In the camp, more than one thousand of them were served turkey dinners that day by their commanding officers, including General Hillier. Our troupe performed - a la Bob Hope - to offer some joy on this Christmas so far from home. Because it's a war zone, all the soldiers at the concert - and at dinner - keep their guns at their side. I remember telling Mercer, "you'd better be funny - they've all got guns if you;re not!" He was.
While all of them wished they could be with their loved ones, none complained about being on mission. On board HMCS Ottawa, it was overwhelming to join Damhanait as she and the 250 soldiers on board - sand O Canada, an Iranian plane watching overhead. In Kandahar, I wished one officer a Merry Christmas...he looked up and asked, is it Christmas Day yet?
All through the camp, you could see the letters and notes and banners sent by supporting Canadians back home. I ever found one signed at the Ottawa EX by the CTV crew that summer. The troops treasure the words from home. They strongly beleive in what they're doing there - and fear that back in Canada, the support may be slipping.
They kept thanking us for giving up our Christmas to be there with them. Oh, we didn't give up anything - and we got so much in return.
Merry Christmas - across the miles. And thanks for our freedoms.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The Spirit of Christmas
Christmas just doesn't happen on Christmas Day - it can be any day of the year, any time of any day...when you invoke the spirit of Christmas.
A 16 year old terminal cancer patient gave me one of the most prized Christmases of my life. In 1995, Susan Fields was quickly running out of treatment options at CHEO, her health - and her spirits - declining as December approached. I made her a deal: she stayed alive, I'd take her to New York where she could have my VISA card at Macy's!.
And so it was off to New York, Susan, her mom and brother and me. Susan was not feeling very well, and used all her strength just to make the trip. She curled beneath a blanket in her seat on the plane all the way there. She said little on the limo ride from the airport to the hotel in Manhatten, and even less as we checked into the Marriott.
That's when the angels took over. The limo driver, so taken by her beauty and her obvious pain, dropped us off and headed to a mosque to pray for her. (He would do that for the entire three days, drive us, then go prayer for his "beautiful Canadian". The Marriott hotel clerk - advised of the seriousness of the illness - promptly changed her room to a much larger and comfortable suite, compliments of the hotel. (Marriott is a founding member of the Children's Miracle Network, representing 170 children's hospitals across North America.)
The weekend was a blur for all of us. Susan drew strength and smiled through the Radio City Music Hall's annual Christmas show; she did manage a half-hour at Macy's in a wheelchair - treating my credit card gently (brother Charlie did lots of damage to it!); and even managed to eat a little at the Manhatten Planet Hollywood.
On the return flight, the pilot invited her into the cockpit - she was too sick and too exhausted to accept, so Charlie got to watch the pilots land the flight in Ottawa!
It was a quiet, subdued Christmas for the Fields family and the extended family at CHEO. Susan kept her part of the bargain - she enjoyed as best she could Christmas, and New Year. And mischeviously wrote and produced a rock-music funeral tribute for me to host, after her passing in late January.
She has never faded in my memory - she gave all of us so many gifts of joy while she lived, and everlasting joy in her embracing of the angels whom she saw at her CHEO bedside in the final minutes. "The angels are here for me," she smiled.
A 16 year old terminal cancer patient gave me one of the most prized Christmases of my life. In 1995, Susan Fields was quickly running out of treatment options at CHEO, her health - and her spirits - declining as December approached. I made her a deal: she stayed alive, I'd take her to New York where she could have my VISA card at Macy's!.
And so it was off to New York, Susan, her mom and brother and me. Susan was not feeling very well, and used all her strength just to make the trip. She curled beneath a blanket in her seat on the plane all the way there. She said little on the limo ride from the airport to the hotel in Manhatten, and even less as we checked into the Marriott.
That's when the angels took over. The limo driver, so taken by her beauty and her obvious pain, dropped us off and headed to a mosque to pray for her. (He would do that for the entire three days, drive us, then go prayer for his "beautiful Canadian". The Marriott hotel clerk - advised of the seriousness of the illness - promptly changed her room to a much larger and comfortable suite, compliments of the hotel. (Marriott is a founding member of the Children's Miracle Network, representing 170 children's hospitals across North America.)
The weekend was a blur for all of us. Susan drew strength and smiled through the Radio City Music Hall's annual Christmas show; she did manage a half-hour at Macy's in a wheelchair - treating my credit card gently (brother Charlie did lots of damage to it!); and even managed to eat a little at the Manhatten Planet Hollywood.
On the return flight, the pilot invited her into the cockpit - she was too sick and too exhausted to accept, so Charlie got to watch the pilots land the flight in Ottawa!
It was a quiet, subdued Christmas for the Fields family and the extended family at CHEO. Susan kept her part of the bargain - she enjoyed as best she could Christmas, and New Year. And mischeviously wrote and produced a rock-music funeral tribute for me to host, after her passing in late January.
She has never faded in my memory - she gave all of us so many gifts of joy while she lived, and everlasting joy in her embracing of the angels whom she saw at her CHEO bedside in the final minutes. "The angels are here for me," she smiled.
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