Learning to be a little more Certain of the Uncertain - Well Maybe?

Detail - Loch Ness Locks / Fort Augustus / Scotland (Sat 04 Sep 2005)
I did not find the Loch Ness Monster,
but I did find this amazing piece of rusted iron.
I have a been a little stuck on this post. Whenever this happens I look to the Manual of the Warrior of Light (*) by Paulo Coelho (*) and found this ..

A warrior knows that the ends do not justify the means.

Because there are no ends, there are only means. Life carries him from unknown to unknown. Each moment is filled with this thrilling mystery: the warrior does not know where he came from or where is going.

But he is not here by chance. And he is overjoyed by surprises and excited by landscapes that he has never seen before. He often feels afraid, but that is normal in a warrior.

If he thinks only of the goal, he will not be able to pay attention to the signs along the way. If he concentrates only on one question, he will miss various answers that are there beside him. That is why the warrior submits.

This is my 1000th post. A milestone of sorts and something I would not have thought possible when I made my first post (*) here on Thu 26 Feb 2009.

I think the above passage from the Manual of the Warrior of Light (*) provides a useful metaphor for this blog and the 1000 posts that it now comprises.

It is a reflection of my life and who I am. I am never quite sure where it is going - I just try to make connections between what I read, what I see, what I photograph and what I feel.

A lot has happened and changed in the last three and half years since that first post. I have learnt a lot about myself and others. I have made plenty of mistakes, yet I think I have done a few things right. I have been defeated, yet I have have had a few wins, for which I am grateful. I have been sad and I have been happy. I have felt lost and without purpose yet in some ways I have found myself. I have looked to the past, present and future. I have had regrets [and learnt how to let them go]. I have given up and I have battled on. I have lost belief in myself, yet I have found ways to restore that belief. I have been hurt, upset and I have forgiven. I have cried and I have laughed. I have been directionless and without purpose, yet I have had goals. I have been inspired. I have tried hard, too hard sometimes. I tried to be something I am not, and I have learnt my limits and what I can be. I have watched and followed, and at times I have lead, mostly unknowingly I should think.

Somehow I am happy when some say I should be angry. I have suffered and have empathised with the suffering of others. I have been drawn into other people's battles and have known how to respond. I believe in luck (and fate) and know that it comes from being prepared and the willingness to take a risk.

I have changed but remained the same. I am older though I feel younger. I am experienced but still feel like a beginner. I am wiser but more naive. I found a voice (an awkward one at that) I did not know I had. You don't know how far you have been until you get back. I've been all over and it's been all over me . Therefore I am thankful for this blog and what I have learnt about myself and others.

Many times I have asked myself why? post what I have posted here and other times I have said to myself, well why not? (this post being an example). I am starting to forget things, so it is nice to make the effort to write what is important, so it can be recalled. I have memories and I am making memories.

Most importantly, I have Remembered Jenny (*) - how she lived and how she died. Jo and I are the bearers of her memory and she lives on in our hearts and in our minds until we lay to rest beside her.

I could go on, but I won't ().

It's all here in these 1000 posts which are just like snapshots of my life.

Like Paulo Coelho's good warrior, I am not really sure where I am going and what might be ahead. I have come to learn that this is what life is all about. Ultimately I think I have learnt to become a bit more certain of the uncertain. I have accepted this - well at least I think I have.

Hopefully, i will have the opportunity to post another 1000 posts. Let's see what happens.

[the warrior] is overjoyed by surprises and excited by landscapes that he has never seen before - Loch Ness / Scotland (Sat 03 Sep 2005)

2013 Auroras Senior B Selection Squad - Lotus Bay / Canberra (Fri 21 Dec - Sun 23 Dec 2012)

2013 Auroras Senior B Selection Squad - Lotus Bay / Canberra (Sun 23 Dec 2012) 2013 Auroras Senior B Selection Squad (Left Crop) - Lotus Bay / Canberra (Sun 23 Dec 2012) 2013 Auroras Senior B Selection Squad (Right Crop) - Lotus Bay / Canberra (Sun 23 Dec 2012)
Note to self. A personal guide for the Campaign and beyond ..

A few photos and words from my heart following the 2013 Auroras Senior B Selection Camp in Canberra from 21-23 Dec 2012.

Congratulations to all that put themselves forward for selection for the 2013 Auroras Senior B Dragon Boat Squad which will participate at the World Dragon Boat Championships in Szeged, Hungary in late July 2013.

Putting yourself up for selection and having dreams, hopes and goals is always a risky business as they can all be dashed in a moment.

For those whose journey for this campaign ended at the selection camp, you have my admiration and respect. My heart goes out to you, but I also know that there are future opportunities and with a plan, determination and perseverance you can achieve everything you want out of paddling and life. We have a number of role models in this regard and I encourage you to follow their lead. The camp will have given you perspective and a path forward to realising all your dreams and goals. It's a decision you make and it is all in your hands.

For those successful in selection, I congratulate you and I feel your elation in the trust the coaches have given us to represent Australia as the 2013 Auroras Senior B World Championship Dragon Boat Squad.

I thank those from the 2011 Auroras Squad (*) who have come back to give it another go. Your experience will be invaluable as we all learnt so much about ourselves, the importance of teamwork and what it is to compete on the world stage against the best the world has to offer.

The competition is intense and goals are achieved through your commitment to the training programme; trust in yourself, your team mates, managers and coaches.

Having done a few campaigns now, my advice is to savior every moment of the campaign. There can be feelings of elation, disappointment and every emotion in between. That is the nature of paddling at this level and I have learnt it is how we handle and respond to these emotions, that will mould who we are and who we will become. You have to an awareness of yourself and those around you - to be emotionally strong not only for yourself, but more importantly for the team, since our sport is the true essence of team work.

There are few words that stick in my mind from all my experiences in paddling and life. They are Trust, Belief and Risk.

Trust - Trust yourselves, your team mates, your managers and coaches. Remember the first time you stood in dragon boat in the standup paddle drill at the selection camp. Serge and Blair would not have asked us to do this if they thought we could not do it. They trusted us, as we trusted them. I saw no hesitation from either side. This is the kind of trust we need to find, particularly when we are uncertain. We just need to go with it and it will happen.

Belief (*) - You have to believe in yourself, and your supporters in paddling and in life. Most importantly you have to believe in the campaign, the process, your team mates, managers and coaches. I find this quote (*) gives me perspective, understanding and strength:

If you believe, you are stronger and the light will shine on you.

Risk - by getting to this point, we have all proved we are not averse to taking a risk or two. At this level, the stakes and emotions are heightened. There are risks all round as we step into the unknown to compete against the best in the world. We have control of many things and this is our focus, but there are others things which we don't, for as you see, I have learnt there is an underlying randomness to it all. This is where adaptability comes in, as we respond in a measured and considered way to the random events that are tossed our way and that which we may confront. Take nothing for granted, success is not attained easily. Often, time and persistence is required.

Finally, be prepared to let go of everything you know and to start from zero (*). It would take me a long time to learn this one and it only came to me in Busan (*) at the 2012 Asian Dragon Boat Championships in Sep 2012. Ask Paul Langley as we learnt this together in the Mixed 10's (*). I became the paddler and person I always wanted to be on that hot sunny day in Busan.

We have an amazing blend of enthusiasm, hardened experience and raw newness at this level. Focus on what you can control, trust and believe and the rest will look after itself. I feel privileged to share this experience with you and look forward to what lays ahead.

2013 Auroras Grand Masters Selection Squad Camp - Lotus Bay / Canberra (Fri 21 Dec - Sat 23 Dec 2012)

"That is my life story up until now" - Remembering Jenny (Mon 06 Jul 2009)

The cackle of a Laughing Kookaburra announces the first light of dawn as the sun rose on that cold winters day. With no sleep that night preparing for Jenny's Funeral later in the day, I penned these words to honour Jenny's Life at her Funeral. Six and half years later, looking back at what came out in those last few hours, I am happy. What strikes me most is how I chose to "reflect on the little things". And they are what I miss most. Here it is ..

Jennifer Joy Petterson
24 Mar 1962 - 30 Jun 2009
Age 47 years 3 months and 6 days

"That is my life story up until now."

This is how Jenny ended her "Autobiography" written in 5th class (being 1972). I always enjoyed reading this lengthy account (it had 3 three parts) of Jenny's life up to the age of 10. I loved this story and scanned the original into my computer so that I could read it during a quiet moment at work.

Jenny was the eldest identical twin daughter of Norm and Margaret Petterson of Holt Road, Sylvania. With feet eagerly pressing on Jenny's back at the birth, a younger sister followed 5 minutes after Jenny's arrival. This was her identical twin sister Joanne. She was ready to play and from that time on they were inseparable. On the day of their birth Jenny writes there was a fete at the hospital. Jenny would always tell me that Norm bought a wind up koala at the fete that played music. For some reason she did not write this

The Autobiography, even at the age of 10, shows that Jenny had an eye for detail, as this quote reveals.

"At the age of 4 years and 10 months and 15 days we started school and cried when mummy left us."

It documents many facts and figures - birth weights and lengths, when they first walked, where they holidayed and details such as the colour of the caravans they stayed in - all well recorded for prosperity.

They participated in many sporting activities (which has been a constant throughout Jenny's life) - swimming, physie, jazz ballet, and little athletics, to mention a few.

Furthermore, she recalls the date of their first hair cut. - and even allowing me to determine that her first tooth fell out on my 7th birthday .

More generally what can be summarized from the autobiography is that Jenny had a fun filled, active childhood with her sister Joie and friends, which was encouraged and fostered by their loving parents.

Even as babies there seemed to be an order to things and this became even more apparent once they started to talk (yes that date is also recorded). In Part 1 of Jenny's Autobiography:

"One the 3rd Oct 1964 we had our first haircut and Joie said, 'Denny First', meaning Jenny first".

Jenny even then was a stabilizing influence on Joanne.

As stated above Jenny finishes her "Autobiography" with:

"That is my life story up until now."

Obviously she looks forward to the future and how she will fit into the world as she grows up. In recent years these words struck a chord with me. Today, these words have even greater meaning.

Jenny and Jo progressed to Sylvania High. They started part time work at Grace Bros’, Miranda Fair. Jo in "Cosmetics and Womens Clothing" and Jenny in "Hardware and Gardening" - "Same, Same but Different". I often asked Jenny to recall these days and I would get a kick when she could still recite the cost codes of power tools and various hardware items. The attention for detail was paying off out in the real world!!

During high school, the Girls ramped up their sporting activities and started to focus on Athletics, Cross Country Running and also a bit of Tennis. Interestingly enough, Jo and I would have crossed paths at the CHS State Cross Country Championships held at Hurlstone Ag College in 1977.

They also found time to also progress from Brownies to Girl Guides. Musters and camps were attended and they both rose quickly though the ranks to Patrol Leaders, finally achieving the highest rank of Queen's Guide with presentation of the award by the Governor of NSW, Sir Rodden Cuttler.

School and High School Certificates were sat and good grades recorded in all subjects. Geography was Jenny's favourite - definitely an early sign of a future "Travel Bug". She loved a map and an atlas, and this remained another constant throughout her life.

Successful Grades accomplished in the HSC saw the Girls accepted into the Bachelor of Business at UTS.

Following interviews the Girls accepted Business/Administration cadetships with the Electricity Commission of NSW. Our lives crossed similar paths again, as I had the same Interviewer for my successful application for an Engineering Cadetship. We were now working for the same company - be it 12,000 people.

Group assignments were the norm at UTS and they always found it easier if the group consisted of two members - more specifically themselves. Minimizing traveling, they were on the same wavelength, which provided for a consistent approach to completing the assignment just in time.

At work, as was the case during their school days at Sylvania, Jenny and Jo made many friends. There were lots of "Work Outings" with friends from [Work and] Uni.

Being at an age to travel independently, they made many "trips away". These were always well documented with many photographs taken, always with people in them (themselves typical) and some local landmark behind.

Jenny documents in a 1995 twin survey that they had traveled overseas on 13 occasions, as well as numerous holidays in Australia.

At work Jenny was provided with early work experiences, mainly in Purchasing (there were lots of cost codes to remember there). Jenny then pursued a career in Internal Audit, specializing in large mainframe computer systems and business systems. This was the days before PC's. Joanne followed a more traditional path into financial and management accounting. As PC progresses throughout the organization, there were now many PC Id numbers to remember.

All kinds of sporting activities were tried and some pursued more than others. The main sport would then become Touch Football, participating in three separate competitions each week. Also they found the water and learnt to row single and double sculls, as well as 4's and 8's.

Through a combined interest in running, Jenny and I crossed paths in organising our company's participation in the inaugural Corporate Games held in Nov 1989. I can remember the first time we met and I how I was instantly attracted to her smile, blue eyes and lovely [nature]. On the [day of the Games] I realized that Jenny was an identical twin. We all had a great day.

Afterwards, I often thought of Jenny and a few months later out of the blue, she arranged to give me a team photo from the day and then asked me to partner her to a wedding. I was stunned. We agreed to go out on 30th March 1990 before the wedding in order to get to know each other better. We had dinner and saw a movie. She then showed me photo albums of her travels late into the night - it just seemed so easy to listen and talk to her and even then I hoped that she we would be the one for me. I could not believe she was interested in me. After a month we were going out and a 10 year courtship ensued.

During this time many milestones and life changing experiences occurred. The Girls completed their Masters [in Finance at UTS], Norm (their father) passed away suddenly in hospital, on [Tue 0]2 Jun 1992.

In late Mar 1997 Jenny was diagnosed with breast cancer and a mastectomy followed a few weeks later. She returned to work and got on with her life. On New Years Eve 1997, Margaret (their mother) was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Margaret was referred to Jodi as her Oncologist and numerous chemo courses followed. The Girls would attend all consultations with her. Around the same time Jenny's cancer recurred in the scar tissue of the mastectomy. This is when Jodi also became Jenny's Oncologist. Now Margaret and Jenny were having chemo at the same time.

Through a cancer course at Royal Nth Shore, Jenny found Barbara (now Sister Suscila) and that's where they found meditation and a natural/spiritual approach to healing. Around this time Jenny also joined the Sutherland Shire Cancer Support Group which was facilitated by Liz, a social worker with Calvary.

Stong relationships were established and developed with Jodi, Suscila and Liz and though each of their own skill sets and support networks helped influence Jenny's approach and ensuing journey with cancer. I believe they helped Jenny to embrace her cancer and to live life to the full.

Unfortunately Margaret's cancer was quite advanced and spread quickly. Jodi saw in Jenny and Joanne a strength of character and asked them to care palliatively for Margaret at home, while she would make house calls. This has been Jenny and Jo's greatest gift in life, caring for their mother at home for 8 weeks (Jenny was still having her chemo at this time) until Margaret succumbed to her cancer on 28 April 1999 (her wedding anniversary).

Jenny's breast cancer spread to her lungs and in late 1999 scans revealed 10 tumors. A hormone therapy treatment started. Jenny and Jo traveled to visit Suscila in Alice Springs and visited Uluru for the Millennium. Jenny would recall later that she had an amazing experience lying in the red desert sand at the foot of Uluru.

Shortly after her return from Uluru we became engaged and we set about organizing our wedding in just 10 weeks. The big day being the 30th April 2000. What a day. We sang “Song of Joy”. We exchanged vows and rings and then kissed as Husband and Wife. At the reception we made toasts, spoke and danced the night away. A rainbow theme being the unifying element with rainbow inspired flowers, ribbons, cake, speeches and songs. We honeymooned on Lord Howe and shortly after our return Jenny retired from work to pursue her passions (on Jodi's suggestion).

At the Sydney Olympics later that year we must have held the record for the most sessions attended - handball becoming our favourite. We had many fond and inspiring memories from the whole event.

At that time, just over 9 years ago, we had no idea how long we would have together. This did not stop us and we tried to live a normal life with goals set for six months at a time. Holidays were planned and taken - a trip to the Cook Islands to visit Susila over Xmas 2000, a 4 week trip to North West Australia in May 2001 and a return to Lord Howe in Oct 2001 so Joanne and my Mother could share the experience.

Another constant was our annual trip to Mt Kosciusko for a benchmarking 22km walk around the Main Range. This year was her hardest effort – but she did it. Maybe it was a sign of things to come.

In late 2000 I bought a small digital camera to document our travels and lives. I did not know how much time we would have share and the camera gave me some comfort that I could capture our memories.

Jenny's cancer was ever persistent and there was always something going on - radiation, more chemo, hormone injections or tablets and numerous operations - we could watch “House” and could easily relate to the medical terms.

Through one of her chemo treatments, Jenny found a Dragons Abreast flyer at the hospital. This would be start of the biggest change in our lives. Jenny and Joanne took to paddling like "ducks to water" and I found myself photographing them and the dragon boats that they trained and raced. It gave them opportunities to travel wide and far. Our holidays were now planned around Dragon Boat regattas locally and internationally.

Jo would make the NSW and Australian Team to Poland in 2003. Jenny was held back by a course of chemo and numerous trips to the hospital. She still remained involved by videoing the teams at time trials at Penrith.

In 2004 she would make the NSW Team and compete for her country in the World Championships in Shanghai. There could not have been a prouder person when Joanne's Premier Mixed Team won a bronze medal in the 500m race.

During the 2004 Shanghai campaign Jenny’s journey was captured by an Australian Story episode titled "In the Pink". She was nervous participant and a little uncertain about how it would be scripted and received. We all nervously awaited its airing on that June long weekend Monday - unaware as to its content. The episode captured the essence of the Dragons Abreast Movement in Australia, showing all sides to cancer and it's impact - positive and negative.

The episode would popularize Dragons Abreast Australia beyond it's creators wildest dreams. Clubs quickly popped up everywhere across the country and continue to do so. Meanwhile, Jenny and Joanne would become the most well known (yet most humble) paddlers in Australia.

Others today have told of Jenny's inspiring feats on the water and there is no need for me to repeat them. She just loved to paddle and found great comfort amongst her paddling colleagues. It provided a sense of normality to her life and she just seem to fit in, even with compression sleeve on her right arm or the missing hair on her head which was always discreetly hidden by a colourful selection of bandana's.

Jenny empowered many people (with and without) cancer to pursue their dreams. She will live on through Joanne and I and no doubt many others from her inspiring journey. Thinking of Jenny will help influence our decisions and motivate us to achieve our dreams and to decide what is right.

I will miss hearing you breath as you slept. I will miss calling out “I love you” as I leave for work each day. Whistling at the front door when I got home and hearing you whistle back. You were the most amazing thing to happen in my life I am having trouble comprehending the way forward. You provided me with love and gave me hope and life purpose. I would always say to Jenny “I am the lucky one”.

A couple of quotes from her regular talks and Australian Story follow and I think there is something there to inspire us all. No matter the circumstance.

“Cancer is something that people do not expect to happen to them and no matter who is diagnosed, and at whatever time in their life, it is a shock which has huge ramifications for not only the person involved but also their family and friends. It takes a lot of adjustment to get used to.”

“I feel I am so lucky and have a wonderful life. I have had some great opportunities through breast cancer to meet some very inspiring people. Geoff and Jo have been a constant source of support for me. Breast cancer has totally changed my life but for the best.”

“I don't understand how things work out, and why things work out the way they do. I feel like I've been lucky. I don't understand how cancer works, I don't know why I've been blessed the way I have been.”

“It's just in the lap of the gods.”

Enjoy your new “Island Home” and those that surround you [there]. You know that “We’ll be There” and we know that “You’ll be There”.

As we said to each other before we nodded off each night .. Jenny:

“Good Night, God Bless, I Love You.”

"That is my life story up until now."

A Message To The Broken - You are not Without Hope - Doug Miller (Sun 11 Oct 2009)

Broken - George Street / Redfern (Mon 10 Mar 2014)
Doug Miller (*) writes On Hope (*):

Hope (*) is a thread that exists in our lives. It has been there since the day we took our first breaths. It has existed alongside us as we built our lives. It exists now in the shattered reality of brokenness. Though we are broken, hope remains strong. In our weakness Hope rises as an unbroken thread stretching out into our uncertain (*) future (*), beckoning us to follow and explore the potential that lies dormant and hidden by our pain. Hope waits. Ready for us to reach out and grasp its firm hand. The question is not if hope exists within our brokenness. The real question is if we are willing and able to allow ourselves to stretch out of our brokenness, our preconceived attitudes, and self imposed assumptions and grasp hold of the only hope that exists, the only hope for our brokenness, our humanity and very existence. There is hope and healing and a future no matter what our circumstances. It is true. I have seen it. There are many others that have shared in it as well and testify of its existence and power and potential. Lift your eyes out of the brokenness and glimpse it, it is before you. You are not alone.

You are not without HOPE.

via A Message To The Broken (*) by Doug Miller (*).

An amazing piece of writing. All the more so, if you know the motivation (*) behind it.

A Rainbow always brings Hope - Alexandria (Sun 09 Mar 2014)

On Photography #1 - Chris Leskovsek / Michael Ernest Sweet (Sat 20 Sep 2014)

Blue Car - St Julians / Malta (Sat 20 Sep 2014)
Chris Leskovsek (*) writes Photography (*):

I went without any expectations (*); no plans. I really wanted to go and get lost, and literally let everyday encounters guide me through. Why [exotic location xyz]? It's really uncertain (*), but I've always been interested in places I know very little about, or that there is little information about.

via Talking Photographs with Chris Leskovsek (*) by Michael Ernest Swee (*).

On Photography and Ambiguity - Streetshooter (Thu 29 Oct 2015)

Shroud of Erskine Creek - Water - Erskine Creek / Mount Gower / Lord Howe Island (Mon 22 Oct 2001)

Streetshooter on Photography and Ambiguity:

The thing is, to have all three elements of the self - find and realize your intent. The Eye, Heart and Mind work together to find the subject and realize the intent. The entire process from start to finish is ambiguous and should be allowed to remain that way.

via Streets of Philadelphia … A Visual Diary … Page 28 … Street … Deciphering and Realizing Intent by Streetshooter.

Our group stopped here about half way up Mount Gower to rest and to refuel for the second and more difficult half of our ascent of Mount Gower. For some reason I made a photo of the water with the reflection of the over head canopy and shafts of light breaking through. It was just a photo of the water, I thought. When I saw this photo on my computer screen a few weeks later, I decided it would look better in Black and White and made the transformation. In doing so a beautiful women revealed herself out of the relections in the water. I hope you can see her. Not everyone can. For me I see photos and I see people in photos.

The words Ambiguity and Uncertainity are interesting words. Closely related but very different. I think I can understand and feel the difference. Hence I would like to substitute the word ambiguous above with uncertain. I'm not exactly sure as I feel the word ambiguity has quite a few shades of meaning in that it can be difficult thing or a good thing depending on the context of its application. Post inspired by a engaging discussion with Carla. Thanks Carla.

Believe in Hope - Cleveland Street / Chippendale (Wed 29 Jul 2015)

Believe in Hope - Cleveland Street / Chippendale (Wed 29 Jul 2015)

Doug Miller writes on Hope:

Hope is a thread that exists in our lives. It has been there since the day we took our first breaths. It has existed alongside us as we built our lives. It exists now in the shattered reality of brokenness. Though we are broken, hope remains strong. In our weakness Hope rises as an unbroken thread stretching out into our uncertain future, beckoning us to follow and explore the potential that lies dormant and hidden by our pain. Hope waits. Ready for us to reach out and grasp its firm hand. The question is not if hope exists within our brokenness. The real question is if we are willing and able to allow ourselves to stretch out of our brokenness, our preconceived attitudes, and self imposed assumptions and grasp hold of the only hope that exists, the only hope for our brokenness, our humanity and very existence. There is hope and healing and a future no matter what our circumstances. It is true. I have seen it. There are many others that have shared in it as well and testify of its existence and power and potential. Lift your eyes out of the brokenness and glimpse it, it is before you. You are not alone.

You are not without HOPE.

via A Message To The Broken by Doug Miller.

In the Beginning - Remembering Jenny (Nov 1989)

[l-r] (front) Jo, Janet, Jenny, Don [back] Tony, Richard, Gerard, Geoff - Our Company's 1989 Inaugural Corporate Games Team (one sunny Sun day in Nov 1989)

I've written about the End, so here is the Beginning ..

The inaugural 1989 Fairfax Corporate Games was how I met Jenny. We both worked at the same company and responded to a call in the company's newsletter, to help organise a team.

I'm not sure I had seen Jenny prior to that, even though we had worked in the same building on and off over a number of years. I was just back from three years working out of Tamworth, my main childhood home town. It was a big company in those days and the Head Office filled a 40 storey building on the corner of Park and Elizabeth Streets.

I remember the first meeting to help organise the team on Level 23. We both got out of separate lifts at the same time and walked in opposite directions to find the meeting room. We couldn't find the meeting room during our opposite navigations of the inner core of the building. When we bumped into each other, I asked her if she was looking for the meeting room for the Corporate Games. She said yes. And, in those first moments I noticed her beautiful blue eyes and friendly manner.

I did not know she had a sister, Joanne, who also worked at the same company, and it was only on the day of the event, that I realised Jenny was an identical twin. We all had a great time and at the end of the day I had to rush off quickly to attend a 5 day residential work course at Dover Heights.

I thought of her often and did not see her again until a few months later, when Jenny rang me out of the blue to meet so she could give me the photo above. We met at my desk on Level 26 and at same time she gave me this photo, she had the courage to ask me to partner her to a friend's Wedding. I was in shock and did not know what to say. What was a beautiful women like Jenny asking someone like me to partner her to a Wedding. How brave was she, and how shy and uncertain was I.

So, I made her endure a night of uncertainty, telling her I had to check that the Wedding did not clash with a hockey game I was scheduled to play on the same day. What was I thinking? I was always going and said yes the next day. At the same time I asked her out to dinner and to see a movie on Fri 30 Mar 1990, so we could get to know each other a little better before the Wedding.

The Wedding was duly attended and I even managed to play my game of hockey before the wedding, scoring a rare winning goal. It was my day!!

A month later we were out in the city with a group of Jenny and Joanne's work friends (I was hanging out with them by then - they were all accountants and I was the engineer), and as we passed a rowdy group of men, I instinctively held Jenny's hand. Whoops - but she held my hand back and did not let go.

That was our beginning, our destiny for a life together, until the day she transformed herself into our memories.

And, it is through our memories of Jenny that she lives on, this photo and post being just one.

The Lucky Ones

This is a work in progress. It has been in my head for a long time now, but it has been hard to write. Hopefully, it will make sense. I expect to modify it a bit over the next few weeks, but at least it is a start.

A few months before Jenny died, I read Lance Armstrong's book entitled "Its not about the bike". Jenny had been given a copy by a long time friend, Mena, not long after the book was first published here in Australia (sometime around 2002/3 I am guessing). She read the book quickly and I know she got a lot from the pages. For some reason I did not read the book until early May 2009.

Geoff, Jenny, Mena, Steve and Joanne - Natation DB Titles - Kawana / Qld - Sat 25 Apr 2009 (picasa)

I bought my own copy so that I could read the book that meant so much to Jenny. I think I was motivated by the fact the Jenny was progressing to the final stages of her Cancer (at least that is reluctantly what I quietly started to think - she had just been diagnosed with multiple tumors in her liver on the 11 Mar 2009 - not a very promising situation). I thought I might find something in the pages to understand her and our situation.

I read the book, intermittently over a few weeks, at my local coffee shop before work and on the train to work. There was lots of the book that resonated with me, particularly his encounters with cancer. One part in particular struck a chord with me. It was about a half through, where he writes about what he felt during chemotherapy following neurosurgery to remove a beign brain tumor.

What is stronger, fear or hope? It's an interesting question, and perhaps even an important one. Initially, I was very fearful and without much hope, but as I sat there and absorbed the full extent of my illness, I refused to let the fear completely blot out my optimism. Something told me that fear should never fully rule the heart, and I decided not to be afraid.

I wanted to live, but whether I would or not was a mystery, and in the midst of confronting that fact, even at that moment, I was beginning to sense that to stare into the heart of such a fearful mystery wasn't a bad thing. To be afraid is a priceless education. Once you have been that scared, you know more about your frailty than most people, and I think that changes a man. I was brought low, and there was nothing to take refuge in but the philosophical: this disease would force me to ask more of myself as person than I ever had before, and to seek out a different ethic.

A couple of days earlier, I had received an e-mail from a military guy stationed in Asia. He was a fellow cancer patient, and he wanted to tell me something.

"You don't know it yet," he wrote, "but we're the lucky ones."

I'd said aloud, "This guy's a nut."

What on earth could he mean?

When I read this, I stored it away in my mind, eagerly awaiting Lance's own answer to this question - lucky .. What on earth could he mean?. It would come quietly on the last page of the book.

"You don't know it yet, but we're the lucky ones," my fellow cancer patient had written.

I will always carry the lesson of cancer with me, and feel that I'm a member of the cancer community. I believe I have an obligation to make something better out of my life than before, and to help my fellow human beings who are dealing with the disease. It's a community of shared experience. Anyone who has heard the words You have cancer and thought, "Oh, my God, I'm going to die," is a member of it. If you've ever belonged, you never leave.

Jenny had often indicated that she felt lucky (I think in both aspects - that of surviving an aggressive cancer and oddly enough, having had had cancer). She said this in the Australian Story Episode, "In the Pink":

'I don't understand how things work out, and why things work out the way they do. I feel like I've been lucky. I don't understand how cancer works, I don't know why I've been blessed the way I have been.'

Jenny - Australian Story - "In the Pink - Kirrawee - May 2004 (picasa)

and in her Talks:

'I feel I am so lucky and have a wonderful life. I have had some great opportunities through breast cancer to meet some very inspiring people. Geoff and Jo have been a constant source of support for me. Breast cancer has totally changed my life but for the best.'

Relay for Life 2007 - Jenny - Survivor Representative - Sylvania Waters - Sat 28 Apr 2007 (picasa)

The Rainbow Connection - Phil, John, Marj, Jenny, Liz, Noel - Phil passed away shortly after this photo was taken - he often spoke to Jenny about how luck seemed to play a big part in how things worked out, but sometimes you make you own luck - Rely for Life 2003 - Sylvania Waters - Sat 31 May 2003 - (picasa)

As Jenny's International Dragon Boating Career started, she came to the attention of the Media and in the first Newspaper Article she featured in, she was even compared to Lance Armstrong:

Don Iverson, Director of the Health and Productivity Research Center at the University of Wollongong, said that Ms Petterson could be compared to Lance Armstrong, who won the Tour de France after fighting testicular cancer.

'It's almost superhuman,' he said.

Cancer wont slow rowing champion - Sydney Sun Herald - 2 May 2004

She was a little embarrassed by the comparison, but Jo and I were very proud of Jenny and her achievements in her treatment, her sport and her life as breast cancer survivor.

Geoff, Jenny, Grace, Lynn, Betty, Thomas, Grant, Joanne and David - Relay for Life 2007 - Jenny - Survivor Representative - Sylvania Waters - Sat 28 Apr 2007 (picasa)


After Jenny's passing, I had an encounter in the Intensive Care Unit where Jenny left us. Joanne and I had gone back to thank the staff at the St George Hospital and to pickup some scans that had been lost in Jenny's move from the Level 1 to ICU. We spoke to the head ICU nurses (they were between shifts) and we knew both of them from Jenny's time in ICU (and I was well known to them as I had fainted in ICU on Jenny's second day in ICU after the neurosurgery). We talked a little and I mentioned that Jenny did consider herself lucky to have had cancer - as she said herself - it had changed her life for the better. One the nurses questioned this statement and she made me feel a little uneasy for saying what I had said. She could not believe anyone with cancer could consider themselves lucky. Maybe, she had seen too much of the cold harsh reality of cancer in that ICU. Maybe she was right. It did not seem too lucky now that Jenny was gone?

This conversation stuck in my mind for a long time, and I started to question many things. It was not until I came across the following blog post by Doug Miller that I found some peace. Here was a man who had recently been diagnosed with Cancer. He was articulate and in many ways his post offers so much more than Lance's writings on Cancer and Luck. This is probably the most moving piece of writing I have read in my life. I don't have cancer, but I have lived a shared life with it and it's consequences. I can truly emphasise. Here it is. My heart is with you Doug ..

Doug Miller - Colorado Trail San Juan Mountains - 1994 - A Single Path - (blog)

The Lucky Ones by Doug Miller (Wed 23 Sep 2009)

[..] a friend [..] pointed me to Lance Armstrong's book entitled "Its not about the bike" I picked up a copy and quickly read through it. I liked it.

It had a bit much detail focusing on cycling, but that was an aspect of the man that could obviously not be separated from the larger reality of his battle with cancer.

There were portions though that left my mind spinning. Armstrong's description of his diagnosis and the roller coaster of emotions that ensued was painfully raw and hit the mark with a clarity and similarity I could not deny. I myself am walking those darkened and fearful paths as I write these very words.

Out of all the pages a couple simple statements that he made resonated with me in a powerful way.

Armstrong tells of a letter that he received. It was from a man he had never met before. He himself had battled cancer. He wrote Armstrong to acknowledge his support and positive thoughts. As he finished the letter he made a strange statement that confused Armstrong. He wrote, "you probably do not understand this right now, but we are the lucky ones".

What? How is anyone with cancer lucky? It is devastating. It not only has the potential to steal your life, but also has the destructive potential to steal your Hope. Those words are haunting. Lucky? We are the lucky ones. This brotherhood of suffering is somehow lucky..........blessed?

It is diametrically opposed to any sort of sane thinking that those outside of this brotherhood would agree with. It actually is an almost dangerous statement. As if you say it as you are waking off a cliff without a safety net. A statement such as that redefines everything. Life. Death. And even Hope.

But as I walk this path, and simultaneously encounter life in all its beauty and harshness, I find myself agreeing. "We are the lucky ones". I am lucky. I say those words with a part of me screaming, "how dare you, how can you say that". But it is true. The perspective that cancer gives to life is unbelievable. It has the power to refine you. Your thoughts. Your direction. Your focus.

It is as if you look at life for the first time. Everything is different. Nothing is the same. Everything is turned on edge, revealing a freshness and an urgency that is not seen outside of cancer. If this clarity does exist in our normal lives, it is missed. Overshadowed by the busyness of life. By worthless and empty pursuits.

Another quote from Armstrong's book was this: "Cancer is not about dying, it is about living" What a statement.

Most would argue against it. But those that walk this path find it to be true. Life after diagnosis becomes "alive". It becomes real. It is as if you can grasp it with your own hands, breath it in, consume it.

Oh if I could have had this view earlier in life. I knew that it existed. I sensed it. I chased it. Through the mountains. Through relationships. In the woods and fields of my youth. It was a whisper in the words of poets. And a reflection on the horizon as the sun slipped out of view. But i did not catch it until cancer became my reference. My reality.

We who are members of this brotherhood and sisterhood of suffering are the lucky ones, because now we can truly live. And Love. And Hope. And I dare to say Dream. They are painful dreams, haunted with the shadows of uncertainty, but they are vivid dreams. Passionate dreams. Dreams that leave your heart aching, your soul longing. We are released from the fear of death. Our finite lives are bared.

We come face to face with our mortality and realize that life is looking back at us. Raw and uncertain. But ALIVE none the less. There were days before cancer that I despaired. At times despising my life. But now I am hungry to live. I long to live. Whether that time be long or short, I hold tight to life and all of its glorious agony.

Posted by Doug Miller at 9:11 PM