Through Kenny's Eyes

KEN WROTE:

Let’s see, diagnosed in early June with metastasized melanoma. My liver at that time was 70% filled with cancer tumors and my spleen was even worse. It had spread to lymph nodes, ribs, pelvis and had invaded enough tissue to really scare me. Of course, my oncologist recommended chemotherapy to start immediately.

Diagnosed in June, scanned in July, October, November, February PET showing complete involvement of melanoma in all body tissues, including heart, aorta, bone marrow, several MRIs showing mets in the brain growing, ultrasounds, 12 blood transfusions of multiple pints of blood, pneumonia… I mean, folks, I think I may have set some kind of record for having the most melanoma a living human being can have and still be alive. My radiologist in Houston even said that to me, the most he had ever seen.

So, today is Saturday, March 13, 2010. Nine months since my diagnosis. If I were a woman, I could have given birth by now.

Let’s count my blessings.

I have no pain to speak of, since my new hospice nurse (Lorraine) has so graciously fixed my previously painful bowel movement problem. I have friends all over the world sending me continuous Light and Love, and friends right here at Prana who can drop by and bless me with the most amazing prayer communion and blessings. I have wonderful food prepared for me daily. I have new equipment in my room to make my life more convenient and simple and comfortable. I have my medications that I need. I got very loving phone calls from my sisters, Cynthia, Debbie and Eugenia. Last night, I easily walked up and down the hall with my walker. I got to watch “Appaloosa” again last night, for the twelfth time. I have my new all-beaver fur Virgil Cole hat with a horse tail twist hat band and a red-tailed hawk feather in it.

And to top it all off, I have the most loving, devoted, sweet, caring, serving, responsible, coordinating, cute, affectionate, sexy, huggable, saint of a wife anyone could possibly imagine in Carol. If MSIA granted annual sainthood awards, she would be the first I would nominate. You would have to have seen her in action to believe the extraordinary level of care she has provided me throughout these last nine months. My best friend, my one and only lover, my partner, my sweet baby.

My soul brother, Babalola Chris-Rotimi calls me every day to celebrate my triumph of the soul while still in the body.

To what can I attribute all this good fortune? I did it by asking God to grant me some extra time to be of service to anyone I can, in any way I can. I asked that it be done through grace and ease, with the blessings of Jesus Christ.

I think it would be clear to anyone reading this, that my request had been granted big time.

CAROL WROTE

Assume Kenny and I agreed to work out our life lessons as husband and wife before we incarnated this lifetime—and I do. Assume his two previous marriages and my two previous marriages fulfilled the exact parts of these life lessons in the perfect ways they were supposed to—and I do. Assume we promised each other we would “go into the heart of God together,” and we did. Promise that is. Go into the Heart of God together? That’s what this writing is all about.

I’ve talked about the deepest love either of has ever known from a mate—the underlying glue that held us together on the highest levels. I’ve also talked about the miasm we were enmeshed in, the karmic flow or in more descriptive terms, the energetic tableau. But I’m getting a deeper glimpse these last few days. Knowing we always do the best we can with who we are and what resources we have at the time, this is not about looking back with blame or regret. This is about looking into the consciousness for a deeper cut—a view from the unconditional love of the soul—a place of forgiveness and compassion.

With that said, I invite you to embrace the rest of this chapter from the same place.

Early in the marriage there were signs of “sandpapering,” a kind term for conflict. Differences in how we functioned in the world as individuals. Some minor differences we were able to work with, but the essential, deep-seated, maybe even ancient patterns that one would consider weaknesses or character defects or more accurately blocks to spiritual awareness, were set in reactivity to each other. It was a perfect match. He was allowed to continue his unconscious avoidance of relating to me as his partner in such a way that allowed my unconscious avoidance to blind me to that which would unveil my next steps in my own spiritual growth. Oh we worked on “issues,” we came to some agreements, we at least rose above the “you must-squeeze-the-toothpaste-tube-the-way-I-want-you-to” kinds of sandpapering.

But for those many years, fifteen to be exact, in secret he went his way and I avoided mine. I was so busy “handling” his much more obvious challenges, I couldn’t see mine. Oh I’d have glimpses (which probably scared the pants off me) and then I’d brush them aside. Sometimes I’d be completely resigned that our life together on these levels would never change, and I’d better just be happy with what we did have, not realizing, not having a clue, that if I would just change one thing about me, that would affect us dramatically.

So fear ran my relationship with Kenny—if I came to my senses I would have to leave. Or surely he would leave me. Rather than risk that kind of change, I remained mired in my own participation in the miasm we had slipped into so silently.

In a flash, we were hurtled into action, as I’ve said before. Apologies for past indiscretions and hurts flew back and forth. We came into the oneness of Spirit, of seeing the path we were to take clearly and unmistakably. You could say the fear of death awakened us into positive action, leaving behind everything no longer in alignment with the goal—Kenny getting well again and loving ourselves and each other so completely that nothing else mattered. It was a beautiful and profound experience of clarity of purpose.