Dear Editor,
It is October, ‘Pinktober’ as reverently called in Guyana. It is a month of remembrance, of what was, what came. It is also of who left, and who is left behind; and of the serenity of the spirit that comes from being a cancer survivor. In some small ways, I am one of those, and today there is sharing of a little more of what is dear.
Mother and wife were felled by this scourge. I returned to nearness with one, and there couldn’t have been anything or anyone nearer with the other, during times of grueling struggles. To be an eyewitness and participant in those makes me a cancer survivor (I suppose), which brings me to a sensitive place. I should be doing more of what I came back here to do, but lapsed from, given the challenges of time and circumstance. It is not good enough, given what I know from firsthand experience of the traumas of others, right here in grim, hurting, Guyana. Where some of our brothers and sisters (mainly) simply cannot cope, either though psychological limits, or the demands of the disease. Many struggle with lack of access to possible remedial therapies, such as chemotherapy, radiation, and constant care. I saw those up close, and it hurts.
A lot more is being done now, with some assistance from the Ministry of Health, benevolent minds, helpful hands. Our celebration of Pinktober is one such honourable badge. And though the wearing of pink by males still has its own interpretations, it is a little something that bonds to the memories of those no longer here. October reminds me, since it is close to November and January, when the final gracious hours came. Having been there, I must do more, go back and give some little bit more, in some way that makes the tiniest of differences to some inflicted, or conflicted, with the anguish of a dreadful human condition.
There is so more that we all can do, especially those who are more well stationed. Joining in the walk is one, if only for the solidarity. Reaching out to a neighbour is another. Comforting a stranger is still one more. I can share that there is great soulfulness from such giving, which is and should be the lot of survivors of the familial ordeals that visit and linger and lessen the grip on life. As I see it, this is one more avenue of public service that is available and receptive to a caring hand, that which can be delivered quietly, with others of like experience and like interests and drives.
Sometimes, we get caught up with the many other competing calls of life that we lose track of the things in life that are still sacred. A memory is one of those, and of people and time in other settings, when mercy and goodness triumphed. May we all give a little more, not only in October, but whenever and wherever and with whomever.
Sincerely,
GHK Lall
