Pancreatic cancer awareness month in November is always a hectic time. There is much activity for me it’s busy, busy, busy, but that’s the way I like things to be.
It’s also a time when memories surface and reflection is the natural reaction.
Reflection can be painful, beautiful, life affirming and so devastating.
I miss Seth every second of every minute of every hour of every day, all 365 a day’s year there is no break, its relentless, it’s comforting, it’s exhausting and it’s a part of what drives me to create Seth’s Legacy.
I know it sounds like a cliché, it’s the kind of thing that people who are bereaved and grieving say, its sounds a bit corny, a bit crass, but it’s completely true
As part of awareness month I have been talking to people diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, people who know they will die. People who know that time will be become short, people who fight the disease, people with dreams and aspirations that might never come to fruition. People who reassure their families that it will all be OK, but know that OK isn’t really OK and OK will mean their death. I also speak to families supporting people through treatment or more often than not; people who have experienced the death of their mum, dad, aunt, uncle, brother, sister, granddad, grandma, cousin, niece, nephew, son or daughter. They are always so brave and selfless in their desire to share their story to make things better or at least different for others.
For a few weeks now I have been talking to someone has experienced the tragedy of a death from pancreatic cancer, a person who is trying to make sense of their tragedy. A story with many parallels with Seth’s and mine, it has surfaced so many feelings, of empathy, compassion, love, anger and pain. It’s the reason I am writing this blog today.
Seth and I were friends for 30 years, we worked in the same company, we worked together for years and our relationship developed into something that was profound, deep and meaningful. Our deep relationship came from being friends. Friends who shared a dry, ironic sense of humor that helped develop our deep relationship. Our love, marriage and life were predicated on our sense of humor, on the fun that our relationship created in our lives. We even had a wedding vow that said we would live together in humor.But that humor was broken when pancreatic cancer took away Seth, it took away his physical presence; it took away my sense of myself.
Seth always called me Les; few other people ever have, did or do. Before May 2014 Les, used to laugh all the time, she used to create the opportunities for Seth to use his humor, she laughed every day, she giggled, she couldn’t wait to spend time with Seth because she knew he would make her laugh, he would be funny, just his presence would lift her spirits.
This morning I have been thinking about the fun, the humor, the laughs, and then something happened which made laugh while crying, a joyful, sad, hilarious event. (I won’t share here though) It gave me the realisation that Seth’s death took away Les.
I have spent four years beginning to find Lesley, a Lesley that still has Seth’s love, spirit and humor within the very heart of her. A Lesley who is full of fun, humor and love, fun which is hard to portray, humor which breaks through intermittently and love with nowhere to go.
Please join in me in pancreatic cancer awareness month to raise awareness of this dreadful disease
If you knew Seth and had the privilege of being part of his humor and fun, please do it in his memory and remember the laughter.
If you didn’t know Seth, and you have been affected by pancreatic cancer, then honor your loved one
If you haven’t been directly affected by pancreatic cancer please help us to raise awareness and I hope you are spared any contact with pancreatic cancer in the future.
Our Purple Rainbow Pancreatic Cancer Podcasts are available please listen to them, subscribe so you don’t miss one and share them to help raise awareness of pancreatic cancer.
Help me to continue to build Seths Legacy #sethslegacy