Regen

Recently, I've been captivated by a young woman by the name of Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger. Selma was born in Romania (now Ukraine). She was this frizzy haired, freckled nosed, young woman who started writing poetry at fifteen, during the Holocaust. At Sixteen, her and her family were sent to a labor camp in Ukraine, called Michailowka. In which she died, within the camp at age 18.

The preface of this specific book (Harvest of Blossoms), describes Selma, the person she was. The writing she created, the sweet young-love, in which she dedicated most of her poetry to. And, how her writing survived, the labor camp, was passed through friends hands, from Tel Aviv, and eventually was descovered by a small German Publishing House. Another young life, cut short, but her words, thoughts, beauty for the world, even with all of its misery can be found within almost each of her poems.

Although many words touch me, it has been a difficult week or two, for some of my favorite people. Who are in the cancer trenches, themeselves. This week, a few friends including Adrienne, were taken off the MGCD0103 clinical trial.

Another, Hodgkin's all0-transplanter, Eric, recently is struggling with not being able to produce bone marrow. Which means, more chemo and treatment for him. Both individuals, and moms are incredibly strong, and I believe will take steps they need to continue both Adrienne and Eric's steps to manage their situations. But, I share their frustration watching both young adults fighting for their lives... in some form.

And lastly, a dear, young friend of mine who I became close with during this summer while we both entered transplant at Upenn, Scott Reeder, at age 28, passed away this week due to sudden complications after his cancer returned for the third time. And, a part of me, has yet to even accept this news..

Beautiful people, whom I care for dearly, are suffering. And when I come to these points, to these weeks, in which life does not seem fair. In which, I feel as though, we've all fought, enough. Because, in truth we have. In which, I want all of these individuals' pain, and worry, and anxiety, to subside. I usually turn to someone. Not for answers, but maybe... for hope.

To another frizzy haired girl, with freckles, who articulately expresses, what I wish I could send, with my love, to all of you.

The rain has slowly and softly made its way through Boston this week, and will continue through the weekend, so, I found this poem very fitting.

Rain.
regen.

You walk. And suddenly the pavement's wet
and suddenly the green of the trees is new,
and a smell like that of burnt hay hits you in the face,
which, hot and pain, eagerly looked forward to the rain.

The grasses, which all dusty, tired, and weak,
already have bent down to meet the ground,
joyously see the swallow
flying near and suddenly seem filed with pride.

And you walk on.
And you walk on.
Walk lonely and alone
and know not whether you should laugh or cry.

And here and there, some rays of sun,
which shine - as if the rain were none of their concern.

- Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger

Fighting cancer, struggling with relationships, losing friends, stressed with future plans, with finances, with life, in general. We all have our ups and downs. The important thing to know though, is, no matter how much rain. No matter how much pain, Selma was able to see life, the way I want to. She was able to see those sun rays...in nature, in herself, in her friends, in life.


And my hope is, while I'm still here....




I continue to see and embrace those rays too.

Sending Love,

B