Survivor Story: Post Mastectomy Reflections

Today I went for a walk…towards The Farm. I have always gone "towards The Farm". My "Earthly Mother" and dear friend lives there. I walked slowly and with intent. I walked across the field and sat on the rock across from the farmhouse. There I could see the wind blowling through the trees, the moss on the rock, the grasses & weeds of the hayfields. I looked up and it was not the ceiling of a surgical room or a clinic office, but rather the white clouds and blue sky of my childhood. I rested on the rock and breathed in the country of the place I love. Finally I ambled slowly and again with intent back through the fields, noticing the grasshoppers, the cow vetch, the queen anne's lace and the brown broken glass along the cowpath. I saw the small green apples growing on the trees along the roadside. I slowly and carefully ducked under the electric fences along the way.  I chose to walk along the top ridge of the last field next to my home, and saw the silo of the farm on the other hill, the quarry where I often swam, the hills of my Vermont and my horse grazing near the willowtree. My friend, the horse was not with me this time. Soon we will again ride this way together; and farther.  I feel that I will be lean and strong and feel the leather rein in my hands, the smooth wooden handle of my canoe paddle as I stroke the waters once again….soon & forever. I know that I will. I am healing.

- Stephanie Davie