Words

After I wrote today's post, I thought about it. I was worried about what my family might think and most of all afraid that it could hurt my sister. I was also thinking that the readers of Frankentongue might wonder what all of this has to do with cancer. I was about to erase it and start over when I realized that what I had written has so much to do with my own healing, the healing of my family. It struck me that words themselves can become a type of cancer growing in our minds until they branch and spread and do their damage, sometimes on the most innocent. I believe that in order to heal, it involves body, mind and spirit. If I don't address all of them the healing will be incomplete. I have revealed some truths about my family, not as a way to cause further damage, but in hopes that we can all look at things in the light of truth and each of us heal in our own way. And as far as my blog goes, I made a promise to keep my writing honest, even if it was painful. So with that here is today's post:

Everyone who knows me knows that I love to talk! Going thru surgery to remove half of my tongue and not being able to speak for a few weeks was hard. Then, beginning the process to learn to speak again has been if not hard, certainly challenging. I used to talk fast! Now I tend to run out of air before I can get a sentence out. And that sentence sounds like it has been formed in a mouth filled with mashed potatoes or some other food source. Each week the swelling of my tongue continues to diminish and my voice is slightly clearer. It makes communicating much easier. Through this journey, though, I have a new found appreciation for words. Most importantly the words that will come out of my mouth.

It was very important to me that the first words that I spoke, upon having my trech removed, were words of love. The first time I saw Ken after the surgery I was able to mouth the words, but wanted to speak them. I know he knows, but for some reason I feel better saying it to him. As I learn more about the importance of words, the more important it is to me to say I love you to the people I love. It seems we just run thru life always expecting these people to know. And while I'm sure they do, I want to know that they know that I know that they know! It just seems the way it should be. I have made a point of saying I love you to the people in my life lately, even my dogs!

We all grew up knowing the saying "sticks and stones can break my bones but names will never hurt me". The older I get the more I see that while that statement would be nice, it is unfortunately untrue! I know I have said horrible things in my life. I have lied, manipulated and used my mouth for if not evil, certainly for some really nasty stuff! And as I sit here with half a tongue thinking that had I not used my words to hurt or sting maybe I wouldn't be in this situation right now. (Hey, it's a theory. Not ready to say that's it, only that it could have been a contributor). One of the great things to come from my cancer, has been texting with my sisters on pretty much a daily basis. It is obvious to me, at least, that if the three of us were interviewed, that the person doing the interview would swear we all grew up in different houses with different families. While, I seem to be the happy go lucky kid, who managed to escape the worst, I know exactly why that is. I did escape. I turned my back on my family for years. I didn't want to be that kid. I was determined to be something more, move forward, don't look back or take a risk of being stuck. I created myself. Funny and self confident. Like many comedians I used the humor to hide my pain in the beginning, but found over the years that the pain has somehow subsided. I had done enough work, examined my life in ways that I was able to accept who I was, and what was in the past. I found that thru self examination and knowing the truth, that creating your self was possible. That knowledge didn't stop me from losing my way however. Diligence is important. No matter what we uncover and resolve it seems like there is still more waiting just below that. It's like dissecting the worlds larges onion.

One of the amazing gifts that cancer has brought to me has been reacquainting myself with my sisters. The process  has revealed, that we did not all walk the same path. While my oldest sister, is just a font of love and always manages to remind me of a happy Irish Sitter, my middle sister seems to have gotten the worst of it from our mother. She and I have shared very intimate details, which I will not go into here, because it is her story to tell, not mine. What I have learned thru this though, is the power of words. Never tell a child anything that you would not say to GOD! What? That's right! And what do we say to GOD?, I love you, you are magnificent, you are all knowing, you are the creator! That is exactly what children need most to hear. Words will never hurt me? I think not. I've seen the devastating effects of cruel words first hand. And while for most of my life, it seemed only natural to find the worst in myself, I see now, just how much help I  had. My nose is too big, My skin is a mess, I'm fat, I'm too boney, I'm not masculine, I'm stupid. I'll never be able to learn this, I'm not creative. I can't cook. I am not enough! We all know the drill. Listen only to the worst that your mind wants to filter down. It keeps us from living up to our true potential. Floating around in my mind are thousands of insults, lies and weapons of self destruction. I can choose to believe them and go on in this journey, but the reality is I most likely won't survive. The other course is to listen then analyze the words. Who said that? Why did they say it? The truth about so much of the gobldy gook floating around in my head is that it came from my mother.(and a fair amount from school mates. Another reason to not say cruel things to children, they can be mean enough on their own) The sad truth is that my mom was an addict and alcoholic. She had so many wonderful qualities, but there was aura of anger and bitterness that seemed to swim about her always threatening to engulf the family. I know from talking with my Dad, that he left because he could not deal with it anymore. I don't blame him at all. Save yourself, or you won't be able to save anyone else.

My relationship with my father has helped to save me over the years. It was seeing myself thru his eyes, that cleared the haze away and allowed me to see that there was potential in me. While it is true that my father was absent from much of my childhood, it is equally true, that he became a friend and ally to me as an adult, and that relationship gave me strength beyond any bond that we may have had when I was younger. He never told me I was stupid, even when I was screaming those words to him. He challenged his own faith and beliefs in order to be able to accept me as a gay man and accept my partner Ken into the family. I know that my sisters don't have the same relationship with him that I do and it makes me sad. I listen to the stories of our childhoods and think, "Where was I while that was happening". I don't remember a lot of what the girls describe. I will say this though. There storeys inspire me and make me want to be a better man. To be someone that is kind and generous, especially when it come to my word. Let the words that come from my new tongue, be softer and more loving. Let criticism be left in the past and replaced by praise and if that doesn't work, If I can't say something nice, let me say nothing at all! And if that doesn't work at least let me say something funny!