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Tuesday 31 March 2015

We did not chose this 'battle'

"There are some experiences that take our breath away. This is one of them.
There are some experiences that make you believe in 'love'. This is one of them.
There are some experiences where you want to ask, why god why? This is one of them."
I have read it so many times yet everytime, I am teary eyed.
I lost an amazing human being 'Arvind Bhaiya' yesterday to a dreaded disease. It reminded me of this amazing love story of Photographer Angelo. May the reading of this story give you strength or heal something within you.
This story makes it a back-to-back LSM of loss of life. You can also see it as a reminder that life is fragile and let's make the most of it, especially when our loved ones are still around.
Photographer Angelo Merendino has created an incredibly moving set of pictures that capture his late wife Jennifer's brave battle with breast cancer.
Merendino explains on his Facebook page that he hopes that this deeply emotional record will 'humanize the face of cancer, on the face of my wife.'
He wants his images to 'show the challenge, difficulty, fear, sadness and loneliness that we faced, that Jennifer faced, as she battled this disease. 
To Merendino, however, the most important message these pictures can deliver is one of the couple's love. 'These photographs do not define us, but they are us,' he adds.
In the words of Angelo Merendino......
On January 28, 1951, my dad was performing with a trio at a dinner club in Akron, OH. That night, while surveying the dance floor from his spot on the  bandstand my dad saw my mom for the first time. Within 5 minutes time he  set down his accordion and asked her to dance. That evening when my dad  arrived at home he sang to his four younger sisters, "I found her." Two  weeks later they were engaged; six months later they were married.  Sixty-two years later, and after raising 11 kids, my parents, both  cancer survivors, still flirt like a young couple. This is why I believe in, love at first sight. 
August 29, 2005, I was applying for a job as a bartender when I met  Jennifer. Just like my dad knew over 50 years earlier when he first saw  my mom, I knew I found her. Jen, on the other hand, didn't really feel  the earth move the same way I did...In all honesty, Jen didn't feel the  earth move at all.
About one  month later Jen took a job in Manhattan and she left Cleveland. After  Jen moved I couldn't stop thinking about her. Not only was Jennifer the  most beautiful woman I had ever met, but she was full of life and had a  way of making you feel like you were the only person who mattered. The  following winter, while visiting Jen in New York, I was determined to  share my feelings. Working up all of my courage, I turned into a 3rd  grader and told Jen I had a crush on her. As I questioned whether or not  I had just said this Jen's eyes lit up and, in the sweetest, most  beautiful voice, which I'll always remember, she said, "I feel the same  way." 
We started dating long distance and would talk on the phone for hours - it was carefree and  exciting. We never ran out of things to talk about. When we were  together it didn't matter what we were doing, it was always fun. I was  so crazy about Jen.
After 6 months, the distance became too much so I moved to New York. On the night I arrived in town, Jen and I celebrated by having dinner at one of our  favorite Italian restaurants, Frank. After dinner, I got down on one knee  and proposed to Jennifer. Ever the poet, Jen yelled, "Shut up!!" So, there I was on one knee, after selling almost everything I owned, except  for a few cameras, some clothes, and of course, my cats, and I was  thinking, "Ok, shut up can mean a lot of things?" Then Jen grabbed the  ring and I could breathe again. 
The following fall Jen and I were married in Central Park. When I saw Jen  walking down the path I couldn't hold back my tears. I had never been so  happy in my life and I couldn't believe that this beautiful, kind, and  strong woman loved me the same way that I loved her. That night we  shared our first dance together as husband and wife, serenaded by my dad  on his accordion to "I'm in The Mood for Love." 
I married the girl of my dreams. Life was perfect.
I'll  never forget the sound of Jennifer's voice coming through the phone, just 5 months later, as she told me she had breast cancer. I was numb immediately. I'm still numb. 
Suddenly, and without warning, we were thrown head first into the world of  cancer. We were adapting to changes, often daily, that offered no roadmap, played by no rules, and had no sympathy. 
As our life became more complicated our focus became simple -Survive! Everything that wasn't necessary had to go.
Just  after our one year anniversary our oncologist told us Jennifer was  cancer free and we attempted to put our life back together. This was a  challenge. We felt so different from most everyone else in our life and  everything we thought we knew or believed in had been turned upside  down.
But we had each other and with every challenge our love grew stronger. The little things  that used to upset us no longer carried any weight. Making each other  smile, picking each other up when we fell, letting the people in our  life know how much we loved them...these things mattered. 
In  April of 2010 our biggest fear became our reality. A scan revealed that  Jen's cancer had metastasized to her liver and bone. Jen started  receiving treatment immediately. After a few months, we noticed that many  people didn't understand how serious Jen's illness had become and we felt our support group fading away. 
Our life was a maze filled with Dr.  appointments, medical procedures, medications, and side-effects. The  thought that I might be a widower before I was forty felt like someone  was kicking me in my gut. Over and over and over. We didn't expect  anyone to have the answers; we just needed our family and friends to be  there. Something as simple as sending a text message saying "I love  you," or dropping off dinner after we had spent all day in the hospital, these things were incredibly helpful.
Our  words were failing as we struggled to make known that we needed help so  I turned to the only other form of communication I know - my camera. I  began to photograph our day to day life. Our hope was that if our family  and friends saw what we were facing every day then maybe they would  have a better understanding of the challenges in our life. There were no  thoughts of making a book or having exhibitions, these photographs were  born and made out of necessity. 
A close friend suggested that I post our story on the Internet and with  Jen's permission I shared some of our photographs. The response was incredible. We began to receive emails from all over the world. Some of  these emails came from women who had breast cancer. They were inspired by Jennifer's grace and courage. One woman shared that, because of Jen,  she confronted her fears and scheduled a mammogram. That's when we knew our story could help others.
The most important thing that happened was that our family and friends rallied together to be by our side.
On December 22nd, 2011, at 8:30PM, just 16 days after her 40th birthday and less than five years after our wedding, my sweet Jennifer passed. 
Our star didn't shine long, but man did it shine bright. 
By  sharing our story, our love story, something beautiful has begun to grow out of something so horrible and unfair. If we don't share our  experiences how can we learn, grow and survive?
Before going to sleep Jen and I used to ask each other what the best and worst  part of the day was. Usually the best part was something like, "When you walked by me and ran your fingers through my hair," or, "When we  were at the hospital and you held my hand." The day after we found out  Jen's liver was failing we came home with Hospice Care and spent the evening with family and friends. That night, as we lay next to each  other for possibly the last time, I asked Jen what she loved the most  about that day. Jen thought for a minute then turned and, looking deeper  into my eyes than ever before, Jen said, "I Loved it all".
Source from DailyMail: @http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/...
Dearest Darling Readers,
When I die, I too wish, I have these words on my lips, "I loved it all". If I can do that, I will believe, I lived a good life.
With love, prayers and exceptional wishes,
naren
As I live...I learn

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