[2023-03-20] Coincidental encounters
This morning, as I was walking into the building where I was to get my annual mammogram, I ran into a former colleague and fellow cancer survivor. We both commented on how good the other looked. Cancer survivors—perhaps more so than others—seem to recognize in each other the beauty, triumph and serenity that comes after cancer diagnosis, treatment and recovery.
We chatted a little about our treatments and how challenging they had been. We talked about how stressful work had been, especially in the early days of the pandemic. But, mostly, we talked about how good we both felt, how much we enjoyed being retired, and what we were choosing to do with our time. We agreed that whatever we do, it should bring us joy.
After my appointment, Chris and I went to the Rideau Centre, a place I rarely visit. Who did we run into? My former colleague.
What are the chances that my colleague and I would have an appointment at the same clinic on the same day at the same time? How easily could she have arrived a few minutes earlier or I, a few minutes later (especially considering I got to my appointment a half hour early)? Further, what are the chances that we would be in the same mall, at the same time, in the same location? Just a few seconds difference in either of our schedules, and we would have missed each other.
What meaning am I to draw from this double coincidence? Intellectually, I know that it's just a random thing that happened, though it is odd that we would run into each other twice in the same morning. But emotionally, I have to ask myself: What am I to take from this?
I was struck by how great my friend looked, exactly how I remembered her from work, some four years ago. I think those of us who have gone through cancer and survived just get on with life. We work or volunteer or travel. We savour life. We do not spend our days thinking about cancer. In fact, you would never know that either of us had spent months in cancer treatment. Modern medicine is a marvel. But so is the human spirit. Is there a certain peace that comes from facing a life-threatening illness and surviving? Are we more resolved than others to get on with living? Perhaps. Or maybe we busy ourselves with life so as not to think about the possibility of cancer recurrence.
In August 2020, early in my cancer journey, a friend sent me a quote that was applicable to where I was in that moment:
You can't skip chapters, that's not how life works. You have to read every line, meet every character. You won't enjoy all of it. Hell, some chapters will make you cry for weeks. You will read things you don't want to read, you will have moments when you don't want the pages to end. But you have to keep going. Stories keep the world revolving. Live yours, don't miss out.
Another friend wrote to me in July 2021, in response to my retirement announcement, and said:
You have new places to go and new stories to live. Let the next chapter begin!
That's what I take from my chance encounters with my friend today. We both have new chapters to experience. Long may it be!
