Stories

In the few months that Draw A Line has been in print, I have received beautiful notes and cards from those that have used the sketchbook. The response has been powerful.

I wish to share the stories.

Share your stories, quotes, and comments.

Send along with written permission to publish on this web site, to nicolette@wingshadowstudios.com.


Kitchen Sink

My mom and I were putting away the groceries together, as always,
When she looked at me and said,
"I have lung cancer."

I screamed as if she had just diagnosed me.
The shock hit my own lungs,
All wind completelyknocked out.
I flew back, ending up sitting in the kitchen sink.

Folded into the white porcelain,
A fork poking my rear,
I couldn't ask questions through my cries,
I felt my life melting into the sink drain.

Finally catching an inhale breath
I wanted to hug her close, to feel her breathe
My gasps of a crying fit became breathless giggles
I was seriously stuck in the sink.

As if I was a child again, my mom rescued me.
I had a deep feeling it was my turn to save her.
Our sad news sobs turned into a full belly laugh attack.

 

Where were you when you learned you or a loved one was diagnosed with cancer?  Cancer is an equal opportunity life changer. 

I am so grateful my mother’s lung cancer was caught in its earliest stage where it could be removed instead of overmedicated. Alas, at the same time my mom was recovering from having the cancer removed; one of her best friends, Mickie,  was being consumed by the same disease. Daily they talked on the phone giving each other strength and courage to do even the most simple daily activities. In the last few weeks of Mickey’s life, as they could they talked for hours. Shared pain and laughter and tears of love.  When Mickey Coolie passed away,  so did a bit of my mom. But in the void Mickey left, grew a stronger mother than I ever known. Cancer is an equal opportunity life changer.

As my mother graduated from Pulmonary Therapy, regaining confidence and breathing ability. I gifted her a soon to be published Sketchbook by a woman who had also survived cancer, Nicolette Harrington.  

Chris Terrell, owner of How it Works, saw much more than drawings that Nicolette wanted printed for staff at Swedish Medical Hospital. He saw Nicolette’s sketches as art that had the opportunity to help not only doctors understand but other people going through a similar journey. Chris encouraged and guided Nicolette in telling her own story through words as they intertwined with her drawings. What was created through blending drawings of pain and fear, with words of patience and guidance became a sketchbook, “Draw a Line.” 

As my mother read through the text in “Draw a Line”  and all the open opportunities of expression, my mother took the deepest breath, and let go a sob that she had been holding in for months. Each page feels like a friend,  allowing long held honesty to flow unjudged.

How It Works helped create and print an everlasting gift. One with new beginnings to endings unknown, like a labyrinth of personal life and continued discovery. 
If this simple sketch book my mother received is any inclination of it’s power to influence the way one looks at the world during and after cancer, it too is an equal opportunity life changer. Through working with drawing techniques in the book; everyday she is practicing art as self love. She pulled out of storage all the art supplies she was too shy to try.  As she was reading Nicolette’s words, allowing herself to again feel genuine fear and grief of cancer; she began to release stress in a form of beauty she could see.