Dear Life, Prayer works. Not a peep out of my stomach since my request went out.
Big smiles and thank you’s!
Yours Truly, PRM

Dear Life, It’s been four days of gurgling, growling, unhappy stomach trying to assimilate the chemical dump into my achy body since Thursday’s Covid Antibody injections. The line-up this past week: Cytoxin (chemo) and Acyclovir, an anti-viral med morning and night along with an anti-pneumonia med has the winter olympics going on inside of me.
Specific prayer request: “Please have Pamela’s stomach calm down so she can participate and enjoy the events of her life”.
I know I’m winning Gold Medal!
Yours Truly, Pamela Markoya

Dear Life, I recently saw a piece of clothing that I wished I had bought. An unusual sweater hanging on an outside “sale” rack of a consignment shop next to where I pick up my mail. The sweater stayed with me and I called to see if they still had it. Alas, it had been sold. The salesperson said, “You put such positive energy on it that someone bought it right after you left”. Here is my poem of unrequited love for the sweater written before I knew it sold. Moral: Buy it when you see it!
Yours Truly, Pamela Rose

Aquamarine Ink 01.18.2022

When thread follows needle
Clothe releases tucked pin
Form appears inside line
Neck to waist to knee

Cross stitch near the throat
Embroidery silk
Colors of sun meets sea
Tide of soft texture

Flat to ruffle
Flower knit hues
Waving cotton
Hung on sale

Ten dollars
Hope you are
Still there
Tomorrow

Dear Life, It is known that writing is a healing activity and an art form whether stream-of-conscious or given some order. I’ve been scribbling journals, prose, letters, and collections of writings all my life. December 2018 began the daily Love Letters to Life. This January, I started writing Aquamarine Ink, short prose before I go to sleep. I like projects that have a focus and structure that can be shared with a community.
Here is a piece I wrote last night while considering today’s trip to the Cancer Center for a prevention injection of the Covid Antibody.
Yours Truly, Pamela Rose

Aquamarine Ink 01.19.2022

Don’t dress ragged
To go to the chemo suite
Comfortable clothes
Need not look like
Straight from bed
To chair

Lift head and eyes
To greet each person
Wig on straight and smooth
A gift from the ladies
In the Cancer Foundation
Resource room

Sleeves must go easily up
Pants easily and quickly down
Zippers on chest to access port
Shoes that stay on feet
But don’t feel like they
Are anywhere

Dear Life, Slow rise to a beautiful day. Chemo medication started yesterday (second round for 7 days, twice a day) so my body is adjusting. I’m grateful a friend is coming at noon with lunch for us. So important in the time of Covid to have a few people I can hang out with around the kitchen table. Green Chili Stew and Love.
Yours Truly, Pamela Rose

Dear Life, I value the solitude necessary for my well-being and health. Stillness coupled with creative expression unlock doors to new ideas that help me navigate the landscapes of cancer, covid, and self-quarantine. I stay above the waterline of melancholy, depression, and grief knowing they could sweep me into difficult places that are hard to get out of. I feel the feelings and the hands of all my loved ones on board this trip even though we are not under the same roof. We are under the same sky, surrounded by the same earth, and of the same Heart. Love.
Yours Truly, Pamela Rose

Dear Life, Rev Dr Martin Luther King Jr said, “The time is always right to do right.” These words resonate within me as I reflect upon the state of the world and closer into my personal life actions. Where am I bringing peace? understanding? equality? respect? service? solution? compassion? love? As my body wages war against cancer within me, I hope and advocate a cure for cancer by being a part of a clinical trial. Standing strong arm in arm with my sisters and brothers in peace and love is how I walk in the world as an advocate of equal rights for all. Voices Beyond Measure.
Yours Truly, Pamela Rose

Dear Life, The year 2020 began with new challenges including diagnosis of Lymphoma, loss of a dear friend (2 years today; I miss you Allan) and the pandemic. I received the R-CHOP chemotherapy Feb – May and lost my hair. I participated in a workshop “Write To Heal” sponsored by the Cancer Foundation. We met via Zoom because of quarantine. Today, the “interlopers”, cancer and Covid, are still here, being dealt with on a daily basis. Be safe.
Here is another piece of my writing from last week’s reading:

3.31.20 Falling Apart
Who is this that has entered the house of my body
And taken up residency
Changing the draperies, moving the furniture, pulling up rugs
Wallpapering with patterns never seen

What are you doing here
Demanding space be made for you
All the movements have changed
With our new arrangement

Here we are now in the silence
Here we are now in the cacophony
Here we are now in the harmony
Here we are now in the symphony

And I have stopped resisting
And I sit with you daily
And I listen when you speak
And I hear a new voice deep within

Look here and see the sorrow
Look here and see the shadows
Look here and see the infusion of light
Look here and see the fibrous marrow

Stay still and know I am here for you
Stay still and know I am helping you
Stay still and know I am a part of you
Stay still and know I will leave you

And this visit will bear lessons and gifts
And this visit will witness your life
And this visit will bring new experiences
And this visit will come to pass

Be with me, talk with me, create with me
Be with me, scream with me, cry with me
Be with me, surrender with me, rest with me
Be with me, love with me

And I will live and die with you
a thousand lives and deaths through eternity
Pamela Markoya copyright 2020

Dear Life, On 01.14.2020 at 2:00pm, I was diagnosed with Aggressive Lymphoma and told we would a start rigorous Chemotherapy treatment. I felt like going out to the desert and never returning. That evening at 10:00pm, I opened my computer and found an email with an attachment from Ancestry.com: My beautiful daughter, Tracy, released for adoption in 1968, found me on Ancestry and wrote me an email. My heart broke open with mother-love and a fierce life force to live. Today is the second anniversary of our relationship that gives me love and hope beyond measure. Miracles Do Happen.
Yours Truly, Pamela Rose