I took this photo back in 2004.
It was of a tree outside the hospital, in which my husband had chemo and surgery.
I stood in the carpark, looking at the beautiful leaves, with tears streaming down my cheeks.
The photo – blurry, unfocused, striking – reminds me of cancer, death, life and love.
It reminds me of that single moment when everything was tumbling down, all around me.
I printed the photo and have it framed in my house. I guess, when life gets too crazy, I look at this photo to remember the things in life that matters the most.
OK why am I sharing this?
This weekend, I’m volunteering at a 2 day charity event, which is raising funds for cancer research.
Handing out water bottles? Helping people with name tags? Picking up rubbish? Cheering on participants? Dressed in a tutu?
It doesn’t sound very worthwhile. It actually sounds kind of pointless, trivial, unnecessary and insignificant.
Wouldn’t it be better to work hard at raising $10,000 for the charity instead?
But I remember that moment with the red leaves.
How, when my husband and I were living in chaos, I didn’t need money. I didn’t need grandiose gifts or gestures.
I just needed someone to reach out, give me a hug, have a cup of tea with me, have a chat and share a laugh.
Sounds trivial. Sounds insignificant.
It’s these things that mattered the most.