In February of 2012, when my husband was diagnosed with a grade III astrocytoma, we had some time. His prognosis was 5 to 7 years. Most people with brain cancer don’t get the kind of time we had and we didn’t take it for granted. There were times to stand and fight, times to be still and make a plan, but this is a story about a time we ran.
This was so moving, Lindsey. The portrait of a strong human who has looked fear in the eyes and told it that there's no time to fear. Sorry for your loss. I had shivers reading this. Thank you for sharing. And this is so beautiful and dense and true: "Usually, you don’t get to know when you do something for the last time. It just happens and then moments or years later, you realize that was it."
Wanted to say thank you Lindsey for sharing this publicly. There are no words that wouldn't seem trite in comparison to this level of vulnerability, but I didn't want to pass by this moving and inspiring experience you provided without expressing my appreciation. Loved ones are worth living for. Even when they're not standing beside you.
This is a very moving piece Lindsey and so powerfully and touchingly written. You've really achieved a perfect balance in this brief memoir, it's poised and decorous and yet so truthfully expressed that I feel I have had a tiny, precious insight into the character of your wonderful first husband and the special, loving and generous spirit of the marriage you shared with him.
I would also say that from a standing start you've earned a place at the top of Write of Passage Cohort 10, in my personal opinion. You're a wonderful writer and I hope David, Will, Michael, Dan and Matt have the chance to read your piece--you're the kind of writer they run the course to find and assist.
I hope many, many people read your wonderful essay.
Thank you. The lesson you share here is an important one for us all. As someone who always takes the picture, but rarely is IN the picture - it hits home. Sometimes you fight and manage and direct, and sometimes to must let go and really live and make memories while you can.
Lindsey! I'm a little in love with you just reading this essay. What a gift this story is to memory-- yours and his. What a gift to us, your readers. Thank you for taking us on this run with you.
This is deeply moving, Lindsey. "This trip was one gift cancer gave us." You beautifully catalogue the scenes of this last trip--textures and sights-- the bright moments and the low ones, and we feel the gravity, and also the gift. Wow. Thank you for sharing. Reading this moved me to tears.
This was so moving, Lindsey. The portrait of a strong human who has looked fear in the eyes and told it that there's no time to fear. Sorry for your loss. I had shivers reading this. Thank you for sharing. And this is so beautiful and dense and true: "Usually, you don’t get to know when you do something for the last time. It just happens and then moments or years later, you realize that was it."
Wanted to say thank you Lindsey for sharing this publicly. There are no words that wouldn't seem trite in comparison to this level of vulnerability, but I didn't want to pass by this moving and inspiring experience you provided without expressing my appreciation. Loved ones are worth living for. Even when they're not standing beside you.
This is a very moving piece Lindsey and so powerfully and touchingly written. You've really achieved a perfect balance in this brief memoir, it's poised and decorous and yet so truthfully expressed that I feel I have had a tiny, precious insight into the character of your wonderful first husband and the special, loving and generous spirit of the marriage you shared with him.
I would also say that from a standing start you've earned a place at the top of Write of Passage Cohort 10, in my personal opinion. You're a wonderful writer and I hope David, Will, Michael, Dan and Matt have the chance to read your piece--you're the kind of writer they run the course to find and assist.
I hope many, many people read your wonderful essay.
https://thepatientnurse.substack.com/p/sometimes-you-have-to-run
Beyond beautiful. Beyond words. ❤️
Thanks for sharing, Lindsey - you have written a very moving account of your experiences. God Bless.
Thank you. The lesson you share here is an important one for us all. As someone who always takes the picture, but rarely is IN the picture - it hits home. Sometimes you fight and manage and direct, and sometimes to must let go and really live and make memories while you can.
Lindsey! I'm a little in love with you just reading this essay. What a gift this story is to memory-- yours and his. What a gift to us, your readers. Thank you for taking us on this run with you.
Such a beautiful and moving tribute. Thank you for sharing.
This is deeply moving, Lindsey. "This trip was one gift cancer gave us." You beautifully catalogue the scenes of this last trip--textures and sights-- the bright moments and the low ones, and we feel the gravity, and also the gift. Wow. Thank you for sharing. Reading this moved me to tears.
I'm very sorry for your loss.