By Faith Wilcox

When we are isolated from our family and friends, the sparkle of life can diminish slowly. For many, the lack of a familiar daily pattern and regular interactions with colleagues can be unsettling. When these conditions are combined with uncertainty about the full impact of COVID-19 on our future security, we can begin to despair. Questions swirl in our heads. Why is this happening? How will our families stay well during this pandemic? How much will this worldwide crisis effect our financial well-being?

For those of us who have experienced a life-changing illness or accident, many similar feelings and questions arise. Being treated for an illness in a hospital is isolating physically and emotionally. Being pulled from our familiar daily life and spending weeks recovering in a medical setting or at home is upsetting. We may worry if we will ever fully recover or if months of more treatments are ahead of us. We may be anxious about our ability to return to work one day.

These worries are painfully familiar when I recall my completely unexpected renal cancer diagnosis, the anxiety I felt prior to my surgery, and the long months of recovery in my home. After my surgery, family and friends dropped by and visited me periodically, my husband was attentive and loving, but nonetheless I felt very isolated from the beat of life. And the ever-nagging question, “Will my cancer recur one day?” kept me in a state of anxiety.

What rescued me from despair? The opposite—hope. Feelings of hope started to stir within me after I slowly recovered from surgery; when I witnessed signs of nature’s rebirth in the spring; when I was able to return to my work and be engaged again. Yes, anxiety about my future health lingers, but I’ve decided to hold onto hope like a life raft in the vast sea of uncertainty.

Life, once again, has taught me new lessons:

• Hardship, anxiety, and despair will likely be on our doorsteps one day;

• What matters most is how we deal with our adversity;

• We could run away from our troubles, hide, or despair; or

• We can listen for whispers of hope in the voices of the young;

• We can see hope in the blossoms that bloom after a long, gray winter;

• We can find hope when a bright star sparkles on a moonless night.

So now as we face the uncertainty of COVID-19, let’s do our best to find unexpected benefits like how we are gathering frequently with family and friends in live video events; let’s hold onto hope for medical researchers and scientists to develop a vaccine; and let’s hope for the return to active and rewarding lives ahead.

About Faith:

Faith Fuller Wilcox believes that self-expression through writing leads to healing. Faith learned this truth firsthand when her thirteen-year-old daughter, Elizabeth, was diagnosed with a rare bone cancer that took her life. Faith’s journey from grief and despair to moments of comfort and peace taught her life-affirming lessons, which she shares today through her writing. Faith is the author of Hope Is A Bright Star: A Mother’s Memoir of Love, Loss and Learning to Live Again that will be published in June 2021. Faith is also the author of Facing Into The Wind: A Mother’s Healing After the Death of Her Child, a book of poetry. A longtime resident of greater Boston, Faith leads a journal writing program at Mass General Hospital for Children for patients and their families designed to give participants the opportunity to express themselves, alleviate stress, celebrate victories, and honor their grief. As a member of Mass General Hospital for Children’s Family Advisory Council, she works with parents and medical staff to improve the lives of patients and their families.

Have you ever tried writing poetry when struggling as a patient or the caregiver of a loved one? Writing a poem can feel like a meditative practice. You slow down, consider your thoughts, and ponder topics for your poem. Your mind can wander over territories well-known and those unknown. You explore questions like: Why am I in this place? How will I move from denial to acceptance? Or, will I ever reclaim my life? Along the way you may uncover thoughts previously unknown. Poetry opens a door to vast possibilities for self-expression.

After my daughter Elizabeth died from a rare bone cancer at the age of fourteen, poetry sprang forth from me. Unplanned, unrehearsed, unnerving at times. As I read my journal entries written during Elizabeth’s yearlong illness, I knew that somehow, I had to process my pain, my anger, my devastation.

With pen in hand, I delved deep into foreign lands. Overtime, I discovered that drawing metaphors with the natural world allowed me to open up but not feel too vulnerable, to take risks, and to unfurl tightly held emotions.

I’d like to share a poem that I wrote. I hope that after reading my poem, you might consider picking up your pen and writing one, too.

Waves of Life

Snow follows a day of sun;

Cold follows a day of warmth;

Pain follows a day of joy.

I have learned that I will never know

what the next day will hold,

but I am no longer afraid of this uncertainty.

Changes are the waves of life—

we will not know their strength,

or how hard the waves will hit the beach,

but they will flow in each day and night,

ever changing, ever free.

If we can learn one vital truth,

we will be set free:

Life constantly changes but we are never alone,

the earth is under us,

the waves break before us,

the moon shines upon us,

family and friends comfort us,

and the one who has left us,

encircles us with love.

© Facing Into the Wind by Faith Fuller Wilcox