Fireweed

This post could have had several titles. This morning, after waking to the sound of the ukulele, a gargantuan breakfast at Café de la Pointe, and a swim under the rising sun for Kaitlyn and Cindy, we took a moment to share a meaningful event related to the cancer experience. Sitting around the fire, each person, through their own experience, brought a different perspective on the disease. In light of what was said, I could also have titled this post “the human toll, challenges and unsuspected discoveries of cancer”. Instead, I chose fireweed.

Fireweed is a flower with a highly symbolic meaning for me. It represents beauty and the rebirth of life in a land ravaged by fire. Fireweed are one of the first flowers to regrow after a forest fire in northern territories. The bright pink of this flower, usually growing in large flowerbeds, contrasts with the blackened, charred tree trunks. They are a sign that life and joy can be reborn after hardship. As well as being beautiful and bringing hope for better days, at certain times of the year these flowers are also an important resource. In the spring, young shoots can be a source of food. In the fall, when they have completed their flowering cycle, the flowers give way to fine, dry, corked threads that can be used, like birch bark, to light a fire, symbol of life, warmth and comfort.

Each woman of this group, in her own way, is for me today the fireweed that overcame immense challenges: the rigors of treatment, the grief associated with the loss of certain abilities or even of their physical integrity, the difficulties of being a present mother or of assuming the role of caregiver during treatment, the loneliness, the lack of understanding of loved ones, the difficulty of navigating the healthcare system.

Despite all the emotional pain involved, each of them has not only succeeded in cultivating joy in their respective lives, but also in being a source of joy and comfort to others. Some became more courageous and chose, once again, to expand their comfort zone. For example, Kaitlyn learned to play the piano and sing, after believing all her life that she didn’t have the talent to do so. For Nadia, it’s learning the drums. For others, it’s learning to name their needs, to demand care or medical examinations that were denied them. Another found comfort in developing an unsuspected friendship.

Each, in her own way, has rebuilt herself, drawing on unsuspected inner strengths, and now, by sharing their different yet similar experiences, are also a source of support and comfort to each other.

After this interlude, we headed back to the reservoir, our hearts a little lighter for having been able to share our experience. This time, despite blue skies and bright sunshine, we had to face a headwind. This was nobody’s first headwind on these boats! So, despite some physical limitations, together, we sailed 10 km between islands. We had lunch in a charming little lagoon at the Ile Verte branch of Café de la Pointe, where a delicious potato salad awaited us. When we arrived back at camp, a small massage by and for each of us was welcomed.

Tonight is our last evening together. Mario and Catherine got us thinking about a word that represent our experience. Around the fire, each participant and team member shared the word that came to mind and its meaning.

Danielle: connection

Michelle: blessed

Vanessa: serenity

Karl: recipe

Andréanne: happening

Sophie: grateful

Nadia: equanimity

Maranatha: genesis

Kaitlyn: trust

Louis: blend

Cath: no bullshit/truth

Isabelle: authenticity

Charles: rhythm

Cindy: resilience

Lorie: outlook

Mario: harmony

The evening ends under the curious gaze of a huge orange moon shimmering over the lake. Lulled by Cath’s ukulele songs accompanied by beautiful voices in unison, I’m definitely convinced of the importance of this expedition and the power of nature to connect more easily, to open up, to share. As Mario would say, this expedition doesn’t heal, but it’s definitely part of the healing process.

Definitely, as Quebec’s singer Richard Desjardins once said, “Here’s the only place we feel good!” (“Y’a rien qu’icitte qu’on est ben! “).

Lorie Ouellet, On the Tip of the Toes Foundation Blogger and volunteer photographer

Translated by Nicolas Sbarrato