Sep 20, 2023·edited Sep 20, 2023Liked by Andrea Gibson
I love this piece. Thank you. After I was diagnosed with advanced cancer in 2020 I stopped fearing the aging process and became jealous of pretty much everyone who is older than me. People don't realize how lucky they are to live so long they are covered in wrinkles. Three years into cancer I'm not jealous anymore, but I do long to to be elderly some day. It's highly unlikely though. Oh well. ...oh and I also appreciate that I can be queer at the cancer clinic and not feel uncomfortable about it. Your writing is very relatable.
I'm round 2 of 6 for ovarian and I'm learning so much from you. I swim most days with my friend and I've started doing a happy dance each time. You're changing lives xxx
Thank you for ALL your work: poetry, love, healing, justice, forgiveness, empathy, and so much more. I am an avid reader/listener/watcher of all genres. You are up there with Dante and Chaucer and Mary Oliver for me. I scatter dozens of copies of your books among my friends for every holiday and birthday to be soil and water for their seeds to sprout. I have never felt more seen, and I am so happy that love changes your blood pressure as it once changed your blood. And that your treatment is working! Miracles every day.
I'm glad you know your art matters to so many people, and I'm just one--queer, neurodivergent, stuffed with anxiety and trauma and gorgeously helpful pharmaceuticals. I have three loves in my life, and we read your work to each other like feeding each other chocolate truffles.
Today I wanted to tell you that I'm adopting my 8 year old dog tomorrow. Like me, she suffered neglect and abuse, left in a foreclosed trailer with garbage till she was found by the buyer, having lost all her fur, covered in mange, shaking and anemic. Her foster family healed her for two years and then after being very picky and interviewing me for hours and checking out my home, they decided she and I get to heal each other for the rest of her life. I hope this puts a smile on your face.
““I’d love to look like that someday,” I whispered to Meg, when on our walk last week, we saw a woman with so many wrinkles her face looked like a road map to heaven.” Such gorgeous words to capture the privilege to age. Thank you, and much love and healing to you. ✨
The chemo room. I wasn’t the patient. My late husband was the patient. I was there w/him. Me. Books. Snacks. Energy. We were surrounded by so many caregivers and patients, all with rainbows of beautiful auras. That sounds so ridiculously woo-woo but turns out this MBA woman could see so much more with the support of this community. Even two years later, I continue to know that our community was so very special. Thanks for reminding me.
I do your blood pressure hack too! Except I imagine my dog sitting in a sunny patch of grass with his smiley face, or I imagine walking in the woods. A nurse actually told me once when she was taking my blood pressure, "imagine you're somewhere really nice". It was sweet of her. I hope you continue to find sweet moments in surprising places.
Thank you for sharing this! I have aphantasia so I cannot “imagine”, but in the times that I have had high blood pressure during a reading because of environmental anxiety, breath work and mantras changed it all for me. So grateful for our responsive energetic bodies.
So powerful. I am trying to imagine your choice—choosing a chance to live when blindness could be a side effect. I am imagining noting prepared you to have to make THAT particular choice. This piece has me grateful for all the choices I have never had to make. Thank you.
I remember my dad telling me stories about his experiences in the chemo room (interstitial lung disease, so one of those chemo-receivers without cancer). He had tenderness to share too. Sending much love xxx
It seems that your infusion place has the gentle and kind people that you need. And cheers to those markers showing improvement; I think of them as opening a space for my life to continue. Sending you and Meg love and strength and low blood pressure! (I apologize for being so familiar, but the openness in your written word lends itself to my taking the liberty.)
thanks for the happy cry. I feel this so deeply. Not cancer here, but 2.5 years into Long Covid and my body remains so foreign to me, so limited, and there is so much fear/joy/hope/grief every day.
I love this piece. Thank you. After I was diagnosed with advanced cancer in 2020 I stopped fearing the aging process and became jealous of pretty much everyone who is older than me. People don't realize how lucky they are to live so long they are covered in wrinkles. Three years into cancer I'm not jealous anymore, but I do long to to be elderly some day. It's highly unlikely though. Oh well. ...oh and I also appreciate that I can be queer at the cancer clinic and not feel uncomfortable about it. Your writing is very relatable.
I'm round 2 of 6 for ovarian and I'm learning so much from you. I swim most days with my friend and I've started doing a happy dance each time. You're changing lives xxx
Thank you for ALL your work: poetry, love, healing, justice, forgiveness, empathy, and so much more. I am an avid reader/listener/watcher of all genres. You are up there with Dante and Chaucer and Mary Oliver for me. I scatter dozens of copies of your books among my friends for every holiday and birthday to be soil and water for their seeds to sprout. I have never felt more seen, and I am so happy that love changes your blood pressure as it once changed your blood. And that your treatment is working! Miracles every day.
I'm glad you know your art matters to so many people, and I'm just one--queer, neurodivergent, stuffed with anxiety and trauma and gorgeously helpful pharmaceuticals. I have three loves in my life, and we read your work to each other like feeding each other chocolate truffles.
Today I wanted to tell you that I'm adopting my 8 year old dog tomorrow. Like me, she suffered neglect and abuse, left in a foreclosed trailer with garbage till she was found by the buyer, having lost all her fur, covered in mange, shaking and anemic. Her foster family healed her for two years and then after being very picky and interviewing me for hours and checking out my home, they decided she and I get to heal each other for the rest of her life. I hope this puts a smile on your face.
Here is her old listing: https://olddoghaven.org/dogs/carly/
““I’d love to look like that someday,” I whispered to Meg, when on our walk last week, we saw a woman with so many wrinkles her face looked like a road map to heaven.” Such gorgeous words to capture the privilege to age. Thank you, and much love and healing to you. ✨
The chemo room. I wasn’t the patient. My late husband was the patient. I was there w/him. Me. Books. Snacks. Energy. We were surrounded by so many caregivers and patients, all with rainbows of beautiful auras. That sounds so ridiculously woo-woo but turns out this MBA woman could see so much more with the support of this community. Even two years later, I continue to know that our community was so very special. Thanks for reminding me.
I do your blood pressure hack too! Except I imagine my dog sitting in a sunny patch of grass with his smiley face, or I imagine walking in the woods. A nurse actually told me once when she was taking my blood pressure, "imagine you're somewhere really nice". It was sweet of her. I hope you continue to find sweet moments in surprising places.
Thank you for sharing this! I have aphantasia so I cannot “imagine”, but in the times that I have had high blood pressure during a reading because of environmental anxiety, breath work and mantras changed it all for me. So grateful for our responsive energetic bodies.
So powerful. I am trying to imagine your choice—choosing a chance to live when blindness could be a side effect. I am imagining noting prepared you to have to make THAT particular choice. This piece has me grateful for all the choices I have never had to make. Thank you.
I remember my dad telling me stories about his experiences in the chemo room (interstitial lung disease, so one of those chemo-receivers without cancer). He had tenderness to share too. Sending much love xxx
I want to ❤️ this a hundred times! All of it!
You have so much vision beyond your eyesight. Every poem you write and have written proves that.
🩷❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🤎
Tender and stormy at the same time. Lovely combination. xo
It seems that your infusion place has the gentle and kind people that you need. And cheers to those markers showing improvement; I think of them as opening a space for my life to continue. Sending you and Meg love and strength and low blood pressure! (I apologize for being so familiar, but the openness in your written word lends itself to my taking the liberty.)
Hugs, just lots of hugs!
That is the very best blood pressure hack!!!
thanks for the happy cry. I feel this so deeply. Not cancer here, but 2.5 years into Long Covid and my body remains so foreign to me, so limited, and there is so much fear/joy/hope/grief every day.
You are indeed the storm. Thank you for sharing all this love and beauty with us.