Through the darkness of this past winter, I have longed for the coming of spring. I imagined the warmth of the sun on my face, the chance to ride my bike, and opportunities to putter endlessly in my garden. So why am I feeling melancholy?

As a cancer patient, I am keenly aware of the passing of time and the precarious nature of life. My cancer diagnosis came as a surprise, blindsiding me with its power to alter or end my life. My oncologist told me that everyone faces death on a daily basis, without any awareness of the risk. But cancer patients… we see the risk all the time and it remains a constant in our peripheral view. And so my melancholy comes from wondering; Is this my last spring? Is this the last time I mulch my garden or open my pool? Is this my last… Now, I know many will not understand this thought process. But I feel confident that it will resonate with those who journey with cancer.

The interesting thing about this experience is that the melancholy does not sit alone. Instead it is joined with gratitude for the day. It is joined with mindfulness, where I am fully present to feeling kissed by the sun; where I drink in the smells that come with the dawning of spring. In the decade since my first cancer diagnosis, I have been more aware of the beauty in my life than the five decades that preceded it.

So, I will let the melancholy be. I will recognize it as a slice of the normal grief that accompanies cancer. I will embrace my experience of being in this day and I will dwell in a place of thanksgiving for each one of those days.