On Grief and Hope

Rachelle Mee-Chapman — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 05:42:43 -0500

Hope, it conquers the sorrow
Shout, it eases the heartache.
Cry, it soothes the pain.
Pray, it brings peace.

-Traditional Greek Proverb

This week I have been particularly inspired by the life story of Miss Jenny, a very ill and very determined young woman who is going to have as much fun as possible until it's time to say goodbye.

About year ago, when she was 13, healthy, and able-bodied, Jenny received a vaccine. Directly afterwards, her body began to collapse. She is now paralyzed, with the paralysis growing more severe as time passes.

While her parents are concerned that heavy metals in the vaccine may have triggered her neurological condition, they are by no means asserting that this is in fact the case. In the face of a non-diagnosis, Jenny's family has taken a clever and innovative approach, using a blog to ask the public to contact them if they have had comparable experiences/symptoms. The details on the 'comparables' can be found here.

What attracts my attention to Jenny's story is not political or medical intrigue, but rather the stunning way in which this 14 year old girl is holding both grief and hope in the same hand. Her attitude and young wisdom is epitomized in this story, posted on her blog as told by her father:

[Jenny] awed me with her compassion today: she could see I was close to crying and she told me to come over and hug her – and she then looked me right in the eyes and said matter-of-factly: 'don't worry – it will soon be all over.' I felt simultaneously struck with grief but also proud of her courage. I will remember that moment until the day I die (indeed, especially on the day I die).

I burst into tears and declared we were doing all we could to stop the disease – she smiled knowingly and said: 'let's just try to have some fun.'

Where does it come from? This spirit of hope in the midst of pain and in the face of death? God? The Universe? Our own deep Spirit? All of the above?

Regardless of the answer, Jenny is an real, human example of being honest about our suffering and yet embracing the life we have yet to live. In an effort to support her positive outlook and to nurture it as much as possible, Jacqueline of Rebel One in Eight has started a Let's Have Fun group at Flickr where you can post joyful pictures to accompany Jenny on this journey. I hope you will all pull a face, do a cannonball, or otherwise goof around to add to the positive, joyful energy that is holding Jenny now. (And if you drop Jenny a love note in the description of your picture, so much the better!)

Other women in the blogosphere who are inspiring me with their willingness to live in the twin paradox of grief and hope include:

Kate Inglils at Sweet:Salty: celebrating life with one twin, while mourning the loss of the other.

River at Baghdad Burning: determinedly writing the truth about the hardships and bravery of life in Iraq, and in exile.

Jenny Ballantyne at The Comfy Place: writing well and honestly about the rage, hope, wonder, and dread of living with cancer -- and an boy named Jack.

Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts: offering beautiful cards with quotes for the grieving soul.

As you move through the unexpected waves of grief and hope that life so often sends our souls, may you take to heart what Jen says, because it is so wise and so true:

Whatever you do, hold on to hope. The tiniest thread will twist into an unbreakable cord. Let hope anchor you in the possibility that this is not the end of your story, that change will bring you to peaceful shores.

Rachelle Mee-Chapman blogs as Magpie Girl. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter.

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On Grief and Hope