Trail Guide Story, March 11, 2007

Marcia Pessemier

I can remember, so vividly, where I was and how I felt when major events have happened in my life, especially when the events happening are good ones. And those seem like easy times for me to feel God’s presence.

For instance, I remember every detail surrounding the events in March of 2002 when my husband, Bill, proposed to me. We were in Pihia, New Zealand, at a beautiful restaurant, along side a winery. We took a stroll along the grape vines, holding hands and watched the sunset together. I could feel God’s presence in the beauty of nature. I could feel God’s presence in the loving words Bill said and when he asked me to be his “beloved, his best friend, his companion and his partner for the rest of our lives.” I also felt God’s presence in my warmed heart of this new relationship.

I can recall equally, the vivid details of where I was on September 9th, 1997, when I heard those now infamous “three little words” (as we cancer survivors call it). You might know them, “You’ve Got Cancer”, or “You have cancer” or “Sorry, its cancer.”

A tall, almost 70 year old doctor, (close to retirement) knocked on the exam room door and entered the room. He asked, “Are you Marcia?” I said yes. He sat down in the chair to my right and spoke to me with such sincerity, he said, “I really hate to have to give you this news upon first meeting you but I have to … young lady, you have what appears to be a basketball sized tumor in your abdomen. It is highly likely to be cancer. You’ll need emergency surgery in the next 24 hours, and please put your affairs in order. You’ll need a power of attorney … and both a living and a dying will. Do you understand?”

I felt as if I was outside the room somehow listening to this kind gentleman tell someone else they had cancer. I asked him to repeat what he had just said because I couldn’t hold it in my brain. He said, “basketball sized tumor … cancer … get your affairs in order.”

I didn’t really think about God that day … I was in shock.

The subject of God came to me very clearly a few months later though. I’ll never forget standing at my 3rd floor condo window in Silverthorne on that sunny, blue sky, November day. I could see the snowy slopes of Keystone, sparkling Lake Dillon and the I-70 traffic … all those cars with skis on the top. I stood there frozen. Watching all the traffic go by on the highway. Suddenly it struck me that everyone had somewhere to go, but me. I was stuck at home, to weak to walk down the three flights of stairs, bald as a baby, filled with chemo, fighting a disease I could not only not see, I couldn’t believe I had at 39 years old.

I stood there crying. At one point I remember saying out loud, “Hey God, are you even up there? Are you anywhere? Have you forgotten about me? I’m out here on this little limb that is about to snap off, are you even aware?”

I know it’s not glamorous to admit I thought God had forgotten me. And I’m not proud of the fact that I spend 3 months wondering why I had been abandoned by God, or angry at God that my life had been yanked away from me so suddenly and so harshly.

At the time, I attended Fr Dyer United Methodist Church in Breckenridge, and our Minister, Rev Sandy Stephens, asked me to come into her office every week, (when I was well enough to ride in someone’s car) .. “To Talk”, she said. We never talked. I talked.

She asked me to raise my voice and yell at God. She thought it would do me good. I thought she was kidding. She wasn’t. So, without any better ideas … I stared out softly, then raised my voice and then yelled at the top of my lungs. “Where are you anyway, God? Are you even aware of this cancer deal I’m going through? Are you even going to step in and do anything? Come on, what’s going on? Where are you?” At first it felt awkward, even silly, … then it felt releasing, and hopeful, and finally over. By releasing the anger, I reconnected.

Although I had felt abandoned by God at the time, he had a much bigger picture in mind than I could see at that moment. Five years later, the American Cancer Society asked me to give a speech to a group of 150 volunteers at the Relay for Life meeting in Littleton. When I got there, they had forgotten to announce the meeting in the press, so no one showed up … except the other guest speaker, the local Fire Chief who had recently lost his wife to cancer. With no speech to give, I simply sat down next to Bill, the Fire Chief, and asked about his wife.

Although Ovarian cancer took away my ability to have children … I later married the fire chief, … a widower, … and a single father, with two daughters who had lost their mother. God was always present, not just in my life, but in the Pessemier’s lives as well. I find that God is always present in my life, even when I can’t see him or feel him.

Some days, my three little words are “alive, hope and joy.” Other days, they are simply, “Thank you, God.”

I’d like to close with a poem I wrote.

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What I Lost & What I Gained

Poem by Marcia Pessemier

I lost my hair … I gained beauty

I lost my health … I gained well-being

I lost my business … I gained purpose

I lost my savings … I gained wealth beyond my dreams

I lost a few friends … I gained many new ones

I lost my figure … I gained acceptance

I lost innocence … I gained wisdom

I lost life’s guarantees … I gained trust

I lost shame … I gained hope

I lost anger … I gained joy

I lost religion … I gained faith

I lost my old boyfriend … I gained a kind and loving husband

I lost my ovaries … I gained two step daughters

I lost very little … I gained so much

 

© 2004 Marcia Pessemier, Limelight Presentations, Denver, CO. All rights reserved. This poem is an excerpt from the audio CD “Help & Hope for Those with Cancer” To contact Marcia please call 303.794.6760 or www.limelightpresentations.com