My husband and I had two children and lost them both. Vincent, 16, enjoyed baking, while 19-year-old James was a brilliant linguist and a deep thinker. Shortly before Vincent's death, Li had written a memoir about her depressive episodes which led to her own suicide attempts.
You know what's strange? The people who've been hurt the most often end up being the kindest souls you'll ever meet. It doesn't make sense at first. Logic would suggest that repeated betrayals, disappointments, and wounds would harden someone's heart. Build walls, create cynics, and yet (somehow) certain rare individuals manage to stay genuinely warm and compassionate despite everything life throws at them.
Right now, we're witnessing a profound clinging to sameness. Societally, on the news and social media, there is a trend that seems to be making differences bad and dangerous. We've lost the capacity to see the growth possible when we learn from each other. And nowhere is this more evident than in our romantic relationships, where we exhaust ourselves fighting with our partner to do things our way, rather than learning from our differences.
For years, I had been teaching people about radical acceptance - not rejecting pain, but recognising pain as a part of reality right now, and learning how to live with it. Even though I initially questioned "why me?" I immediately shifted to "what now?" Cancer was happening , and it was one of the challenges I was going to have to deal with. I was going to get through this journey coming from a place of peace and gratitude, rather than fear.