The Month My Humor Died

I have always tried to pick out the lighter and joyful parts of life: making fun of the absurd, mocking the difficulties. It has been great fun sharing the humor in most of life's events. But forty-five days ago I lost all traces of levity. My twelve year old niece was diagnosed with leukemia.Within 3 days I was wrecked. I was devastated that her leukemia wasn't the usual, easily treatable kind. I was stunned that her type of cancer was a mish-mash of undifferentiated, unfamiliar, useless cells that filled her bone marrow with crap. She couldn't even make blood cells for herself anymore. I was devastated that her young life was forever changed.
As poison coursed through her veins in the form of chemotherapy I desperately asked myself what I could do for her to ease the fear and pain of this sudden change of reality. I only had one thing that no one else had: an escape mechanism that I use when I lose hope. Meditation. I have the ability to find my "happy place".
So for the first month I sat by her side, in her hospital prison, while six different medications were pumped into her body, killing her, healing her. I just talked to her softly and guided her away from her broken body and spirit. We defied gravity by flying, we ran a hundred miles without fatigue, we rested in perfect, green meadows as baby animals cuddled in our arms. We looked into a magical crystal and imagined our future.
To this day I don't know if I actually helped her, but I know for a certainty that I helped myself. I found a peace that constantly eludes me. My niece went home for a mini recovery for a few days, soon to return for another round of chemo. I will return to her bedside with images of hope, grace and peace, not only for her benefit but for mine as well.