this story is full of angels.

my childhood was filled with angels.  being the daughter of a preacher man, i wish i could say that this was a perk of my his profession.  you’d think there would be some serious direct-lines-to-heaven, but angels weren’t my dad’s sidekicks.  it was a bit more literal than that.  i watched a lot on tv!   you’ve probably forgotten, but angels ruled during the 1990s!  from evenings on the couch being ‘touched by an angel‘ with my mom and roma downey (listen to this for a throwback!), to watching the young joseph gordon-levitt help the california angels baseball team win the pennant in the feel good sports movie angels in the outfield, to the angelic romance (and seriously depressing) meg ryan-nicholas cage film, city of angels (which is likely more famous for the goo goo dolls song iris, which i swear, in 1994, i predicted would be a famous pop song!).

however; angels seem to have mostly left my life in the 2000s.  they haven’t shown up as much in popular culture, nor much in my life.  at least, not that i had noticed.

the other week, i was driving through algonquin provincial park, on the way to my cottage.  the roads were lined with plastic tarp fencing, which seems to have been designed to stop turtle road fatalities.  all of a sudden, i saw a man waving his arms madly up ahead in front of me.  i was surprised, and it was hard to tell what was wrong.  did he need help?  had there been an accident?  as i slowed the car down, it turned out that a small painted turtle had made its way out into the middle of the road, not having been deterred by the fencing.  the man had stopped his own car, was ensuring that cars noticed the small turtle, and was about to go out into the road to pick the turtle up.  that man saved that turtle’s life.  a guardian angel, of sorts.

when i first got diagnosed, so many people said, “please let me know what i can do to support you”.  unfortunately, as much as i wanted to tell everyone what was helpful, when you are in your dark rock bottom days, you certainly don’t know what you need, let alone have the energy to fully articulate it.  in the first weeks, i had long lists of logistical things that needed to be done, but as the weeks passed, i had less ideas to offer people.  even though i couldn’t always tell people what i needed, i’ve noticed how many strangers/acquaintances/friends/family touch my life, make things easier, or show grace and kindness in unexpected/unrequested ways.  my very own angels:

• the woman, at the holiday inn express in huntsville, who let me use the internet for free,  when i could not find working wifi and i was desperate to meet with my online book club.
• the tim hortons drive thru employee who gave me my early morning coffee when i didn’t have enough money to pay.  i was on my way to a scary appointment (which he didn’t know, of course), and i hadn’t been to the bank.
• the ladies who made sure i never had to spend a moment alone during the first week post-diagnosis, who made me food, told me i could wake them in the night if i got scared, and who helped me problem solve when it all seemed too much.
• the lady at the flower shop, who sent a second batch of flowers, when she heard the first arrangement had arrived when i wasn’t home.  she wanted to make sure i got the most amount of time with a fresh bouquet.  those flowers ended up becoming the incredible traveling flowers, accompanying me on my visits around ontario.
• my yoga teacher, who seemingly designed a class just for me.  she brought me to tears with her words, and played this song, which might have the most beautiful message i’ve ever heard.  you can’t rush your healing.  darkness has its teaching.  i felt like i was meant to know her, and be in that class, in that moment.
• the woman who took action to solve my insurance woes.  she took the initiative to get the information to the company that they couldn’t seem to get themselves… and now, because of her, my immunotherapy is being covered through my insurance.
• my oldest friend, who without question, got on a train with a small baby, to just be with me when i had just arrived in canada from bangkok.  i was raw, exhausted, scared, emotional.  we just sat on the bed.  we talked.  we cried.  we stared at her beautiful baby.  for the first time since my diagnosis, i felt safe.
• the people who sent/send me random emails with the most bizarre, random and joyful links/stories/recommendations.
• the colleague who gifted me a copy of the book when things fall apart.  i just woke up one morning and it was waiting for me in my email inbox, ready to read.
• the surgical oncologist, who got me in for surgery quickly, and responded to emails during non-working hours to offer me peace of mind.
• the school nurse who dropped everything to be with me at every.single.appointment.  way beyond her job description.  when i was waiting (for what felt like years) to get the results from my scan about whether the cancer had moved to my brain, and i was feeling fear unlike any i had felt in my life, she literally and figuratively carried me through.
• my parents, who have shifted their schedule so that i basically have full time access to a car, and i didn’t have to rent one.  the fleming free rental car service.
• my acupuncturist, who while on vacation in france, responded to messages to get me in urgently with two of his colleagues.
• the pharmacist, who lovingly helped me solve a problem, gave me a room to cry in, and was so tender with me during a stressful morning.
• my friends: who have worked their connections, sent me snail mail, washed my hair when i couldn’t wash my own, sent me gift certificates to whole foods because they know its like disney world to me, lent me books, checked in, checked in again, invited me places, come to ottawa, sent me inspiration, made me dinner, let me cry and let me feel like a 6/10, or even a 5.

and i’m sure i’ve overlooked so many others.

in my own way, i’m a turtle trying to cross the road.  i’m a wee creature in a big world, and i’ve got potential danger coming my way.  my angels may be more subtle than a man waving his arms wildly, but they are here – they are everywhere.  even though i am able to take care of myself, they come anyway.  angels can be hard to notice: they don’t announce their arrival, nor offer big gestures.  but, just like the turtle, i have people who are stopping cars for me, who are warding off danger, scooping me up, and cradling me gently along the way.

this story is full of angels.   i just have to be moving slow enough to notice.

*the above photo was taken at wat rong khun – or the white temple – in chiang rai, thailand, on a long weekend trip in february 2014.  i loved all the messages of beauty and hope.  if only we innately believed these things about ourselves, and didn’t need to look at messages like this to be reminded.  i don’t know what the thai message says, but i imagine it is beautiful.