A girl called "Tragedy"

There once was a girl they called “Tragedy.”

They say she came into this world clothed in an invisible armor for a fight she did not choose.

Little did she know, but much of her life would be fought waging war not with the world around her but a war within herself. 

When I think about that girl, my heart hurts for her. I am sad for her. For the things she has never gotten to experience and the moments yet to come that she will never know. 

But, it’s strange. I don’t feel sorry for myself but instead feel a deep sadness for the girl that could have been - the world she could have known. I see that girl reflected in the faces of those I love - my friends, my family, Mark. There is no anger, just sadness.

There once was a girl called “Tragedy.”

She learned from a young age that the sharpest swords would not save her. 

She tried for years to outrun, outwill, and outsmart her circumstances but the armor she bore offered little protection for the ever changing fight at hand.

If I take a step back from myself and look at the narrative of my life one might easily say it has been a life rooted in disease, divorce, despair, loss, suffering, pain, and adversity.

But, in all reality I have never viewed my life as such - a “tragedy” that is. It is only after this latest diagnosis of cancer have I felt such a deep sadness for the girl who was assigned this life.
I find myself whispering beneath my breath “thank you” for sticking with me through it all while also holding back tears laden with the words “I’m sorry.”

There once was a girl they called “Tragedy”

They say the armor she bears is composed of impossibility. 

That by all odds she should not be here. 

Her arrows are forged in forgiveness and her bow built on borrowed time. 

We’ve made it through eight rounds of chemo. Four more to go with a scan and oncology and CF appointments in there as well. This body is holding up given the circumstances, but to be honest, I will be so grateful for the day when “chemo” isn’t a part of my daily dialogue. It’s a delicate dance between CF and Cancer. By depleting my immune system with chemo, my lungs continue to take a “hit” with every round. It’s hard to know where CF complications and symptoms begin and where the effects of chemo end. Am I exhausted because of CF? Chemo? Am I just lazy? Maybe I can merely outwill and outwit all of this. There’s a voice I hear reverberating throughout my body saying “you should be doing and handling this all better. You should be pushing yourself harder.”

There once was a girl they called “Tragedy”

She would not be defined by circumstance but instead poised for possibility. 

She learned her greatest strength was not in the fight itself but how she could use the struggle for good. 

So she shed the armor she thought protected those she loved and embraced the battle before and behind her.

There once was a girl they called “Tragedy”

They say she was focused, fearless, and fervent. 

She learned that it was the tragedy itself that gave her life its trajectory. 

And while she felt the heavy pull of each obstacle, It’s what gave her the strength to close her eyes and trust what may lie ahead - believing in a good greater than all comprehension. Because tragedy never makes sense.

This life and all it’s given has made me who I am. When I stopped fighting its existence and instead embraced its truth, therein lied the whole of who I am and could be. And while my heart feels heavy for such a girl, I can’t help but feel grateful for this one wild and beautiful life some might call a tragedy. But it’s mine, and it’s the only one I get. I am not a tragedy.

There is a girl they call  “tragedy.”

They say she lives her life overcoming odds and finding beauty in impossibility.

She embraces her name while breathing life into its greater trajectory.

Amidst every setback she simply pulls the nock of the arrow back just a little bit further - aiming higher towards the sky. 

But the tension of the bow can prove to be too much at times. It’s the hands that surround Tragedy that make holding it steady even possible, let alone give it strength to soar.
When it’s time to release that arrow, there’s a hope that fuels its flight. A destination unknown. 

But, when it does find its final destination Tragedy hopes that her life might not be defined for its difficulties but a reflection of the beauty that can come from unchosen circumstances. 

There is no tragedy where hope is found.