Dune Study, 2016 ~ Kris Passey (1948-2016/17) Watercolor on 140 lb coldpress, 9 1/2 x 4 7/8 in.
I have been given a confirmed diagnosis of stage IV adenocarcinoma pancreatic cancer. My prognosis is on the short side of 3 – 6 months to live. It is not curable. There is no viable surgical, chemical or radiological treatment at this point. Any choices about it I have are limited to a range in pain management.
I was encouraged by some and discouraged by others about posting it on Facebook. But you’re reading it so you know what my decision is.
My wife, children and close family all know, I believe. We are far-flung both geographically and otherwise. Telling my friends has been complicated, laborious and enervating. Not everyone I would have liked to tell personally before making this general announcement on Facebook has been told. I do not mean to give offense nor to presume any relationship that was more on my side than yours. I love a lot of people. I do not expect mawkish statements of grief, contributions or questions.
Please do your own research if you have questions about stage IV adenocarcinoma pancreatic cancer. It is a very personal kind of cancer and what happens to me will almost certainly not be what happens to others who contract it. For that reason I will not be writing about it. A tough guy might say, “We are all in this alone. Stand up and die your own death.” I don’t think of myself as a tough guy. And while I don’t expect this to be a party that does not mean I expect there will not be some partying along the way.
I have completely accepted this. There is no false hope to have. If you have a little, please, keep it to yourself. Your hope for a cure, proclamations of faith or spiritual pleas for more time will not buoy me up. I am strangely happy. There are no miracle cures anywhere in the world despite what anyone has told you, or will tell you. So please, be a human about what you say here. I will not be getting better.
Retired Barn, 2016 ~ Kris Passey (1948-2016/17) Watercolor on 140 lb. coldpress, 4 1/8 x 2 5/8 in.
As a nontheist, I have no religious ground to make up. I do not listen to spirits, my own or others’. I have no one to prepare to meet and nothing to expect. I do admit to a small amount of joy at knowing that if I am wrong, I will probably know that before you do. If I am right, none of us will know. You will find I do some mild teasing about this from time to time. Please, don’t ever take it personally. I am not singling you out for admonition.
There are many on this “social” network I love and respect. I wish I would have gotten to know you better, faster. I wish I would have gotten to hear your personal stories as well as read more of those you will write. That is not a lament, however, but a joyful song for all those you did share. Thank you.
I understand now that the first two lines in each tercet and the concluding quatrain of Dylan Thomas’s villanelle, “Do Not Go Gentle…” are much more important than the last line’s repeated rhyming mechanism, which I now see as an ironic statement of futility. … But please, do your own research.
Torn Sky, 2016 ~ Kris Passey (1948 – 2016/17) Watercolor on 140 lb. coldpress, 6 1/4 x 4 5/8 in.
I will try to keep posting the light captured by so many as paintings that bring me joy. It may become more irregular before it disappears. I assure you there are many sources when mine sputters to a stop. I hope you indulge yourselves before you catch and sing the sun in flight. Or perhaps you will rage with impunity?
CauseriE 