"Control" is illusory, I think.

But "peace?" I think peace is ultimately being able to say, accept and believe "what is, is" and keep moving toward whatever the conclusion is.

It seems to me that much of the fear grows out of the desire to avoid pain. In our case, knowing hospice was there and would do whatever they could to stop or minimize pain was a great help in achieving whatever sense of peace we could.

Personally, I don't fear death itself. I fear the dying process. I hope someone's there for me at the end like I was there for others. That would bring peace.

Sent by Bruce | 7:39 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace is the ability to accept the inevitable.
So easily defined but, alas, so difficult to obtain.

Sent by Michael K. | 7:48 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Since Neil passed, I am looking for that elusive feeling of peace. Right now I am feeling fear, loneliness, abandonment, hurt, lied to, and I am learning what greed is like. I don't like any of it.
So often, we get so wrapped up in our own troubles we do not think about what goes on in the lives of others, we do not know their concerns, their fears, their hopes and dreams. We do not know of their struggles.
This puts a whole new meaning to shaking hands with my parish family and wishing them Christ's peace....
From now on, when I offer someone the sign of peace, it will have a whole new meaning for me. Thank you for sharing today...
From my heart to yours, Peace be with you!

Sent by Laurie Hirth | 7:50 AM ET | 07-01-2008

You are being philosophical and deep again this morning, and now I feel reflective.

Peace.... when I was investigating hospice for my father, I felt every emotion EXCEPT peace. Conflict, fear, anxiety, were rampant. More profound was the feeling I couldn't control what was to be inevitable.

When my father died peacefully, and it was a peaceful passing, I too felt peace. I had done right by him, carrying out his wishes. Peace brought acceptance. It did not remove the pain of my loss, but made me realize that peace was more important than trying to control what I could not.

Sent by Sue Chap | 7:52 AM ET | 07-01-2008

In my own experience, it's been hard to feel "peace" when I am in fighting cancer mode. Or fighting my swallowing disability left over from the cancer fight (the mode I am in now). But I fight the fight I do because I believe the only way I could eventually be at peace, if teh cancer comes back and is terminal, or if I exhaust every option and still can't swallow very well, is to know I did everything I could do.

In cancer world, I find the prescription for peace in the well-used "serenity prayer". I hope to find the serenity (and peacefulness) "to accept the things I cannot change" but first I need the "courage to change the things I can". As for "the wisdom to know the difference", that's where I rely on doctors!

Sent by N.R. | 7:56 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Thanks Doc. Thank you for sharing your feelings too.
I'm off to Hawaii for what I hope will be two weeks of peace. I'll think of everyone here and offer up the sunrises to you.

Sent by Sue in Rochester, NY | 8:02 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace is profound; just like Dr. Meyer's thoughts on the subject. It is when you KNOW you will be okay...even if your physical body won't. I pray for inner peace almost more than anything else. It is elusive but I see little signs that it's hanging around more than it used to. I bid everybody here peace.

Sent by Karen Laven | 8:09 AM ET | 07-01-2008

The moments of peace--not really acceptance or relinquishment, but a true lifting of worry and fear--these are the moments that stand out in my memory of the cancer years with my mother and my family. My mom had pancreatic cancer and suffered so much, physically and emotionally. But there were moments of peace that we considered blessings of God, somehow His grace had peeked down out of the clouds and held us for awhile.

I love that your comments ended with a question...the mysteries and questions are what have kept me Catholic despite the difficulties in the Church.

Blessings of peace be with you Leroy, and your doctor-friend.
crow

Sent by crow | 8:17 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I wish I knew.....am so looking forward to reading others comments to help me get there.

Kim from Columbia

Sent by Kim E. Moore | 8:33 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Good July 1st Leroy and Laurie~ I will take the chance and send this off to you although several of my latest messages to you have been lost. Either I answered too soon after your first posting, or something is different lately. So, here goes again.
You are speaking about "Peace" and I find that there are many versions. Peace of the Soul and Peace of Mind come to us either through resignation to what life is dishing out to you or from a Spiritual acceptance of events you cannot change or influence. Leroy, are you coming to some sort of peace? Can there ever be true peace in this world or is that a state we shall reach at some later evolution yet to come? You have not spoken about your general well being lately. Has your extreme pain lessened? Oh, I hope so. Your mind is still keen it seems but you sound depressed. Depression is not Peace. Have you given up on hope? Please don't. Try to come back to the basic reason for your blog in the first place. You have done a fabulous job in bringing hope and yes, even peace, to so many who were suffering and now feel that they are not alone. Please don't get caught up in too much PR and lose the focus of why we have all turned to you. We are still all on this ride called LIFE not death. Let's continue thinking, communicaating and living. Love you and what you have done for us!

Sent by J C R | 8:36 AM ET | 07-01-2008

"A moving target", indeed.

I caught peace at 4:13 AM today. My 7 year old appeared at the side of my bed with the "I'm really scared!" look on his face. I tucked him in between me and my husband and he fell asleep in the crook of my arm. That was peace, I caught the moving target.

You never know when it will swing by you, urging you to grab it and hold onto it as long as you can.

I've had some today, now I toss it out to you.

Peace friends, Debra

P.S. I do like the idea of there being chocolate involved, good call doc.

Sent by Debra in New Hampshire | 8:58 AM ET | 07-01-2008

The apostle Paul wrote he prayed for a peace that surpasses understanding. This is what I pray for you daily.

Sent by helen drab stigant | 8:59 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace may be the most subtle casualty of cancer...I am never quite rid of the fear of this thing (and with mets to my liver once, I have good reason to be cautious). The persistent sense of "dis-ease" overrides the peace that I so deeply desire.

Solace
jj

Sent by Joan Jones | 9:18 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I was thinking that I have nothing to offer here. Peace is something I rarely feel.

Until I read Debra's posting!

Cancer is a war on your body and your life and the lives of those around you. I thought after my Mom died I would find peace. Seven years later I am still plagued by the words said and not said. Things done and left undone.

So tonight I will hold my kids as they fall asleep and recognize that I have a daily dose of peace and be thankful.

PS: Sue - we were in Hawaii this year, if peace is a place, that is where I would look!

Sent by Liz L. | 9:30 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy:

For what it can provide you, I wish you peace. Though I suspect you have already found your own inner peace. For Lori, probably not, as she will have to deal with life without you...but she does have all of your friends and those of us on the blog when she is able to let us ease her pain.

I came later to your blog - right after the show with Ted Koppel. In the meantime, I have watched you fight your battle and have also watched my aunt fight, seem to win and ultimately lose her battle with breast cancer. In fact, immediately after her passing, it took me nearly three weeks to be able to come back to the blog - though I did read the intervening segments to catch up with where you were.

It seems that nearly all of the cancer patients that I have known and lost ultimately to come to a peace of their own - which God fortunately allows them to reach - not where they are giving up - but realizing that the time has come that the beast is winning and that all treatments no matter how extreme have been tried. As humans, we all have to come to this point - our intelligence and psyche will allow nothing else. Do we wish to leave our loved ones - that depends on your faith beliefs and whether you believe that you will be reunited soon and in what condition. As a Catholic, I yearn for that time when I will be reunited with my Lord and my loved ones for all eternity - to wait for the rest of my family to join me. I realize that when I do pass, that it will be at the time of my life when I have accomplished all that I am expected to do and as some put it, at the most perfect moment in terms of my being and sanctity. Your oncologist, were he not so personally involved with you would be able to reach this same conclusion - but he is one of those few doctors that involves himself with his patients and his friends and cannot - at this moment - he will later.

Will we miss you? Yes, most definitely. Will we celebrate you? Certainly. You and your blog have given more to so many more people on a daily basis, than perhaps a lot of what you accomplished throughout your life - for you offered hope and provided a glimpse into what it is truly like (save for those days when you did not want to show what was really happening).

There have been days over the past what two years? that I have logged on simply to read how you were doing; to read what Lori or one of the producers wrote after your surgeries as I have included and still include you in my prayers at the end of the day as I have my family.

You will be celebrated and remembered for this blog and all else you have accomplished, though I suspect that perhaps the writing of this blog has been what has lead you to finding your peace and is what the Lord may consider your finest hour and leading to your most perfect moment.

Peace my friend...and may your peace indeed be a light to the world.

Sent by Cindy Sivula | 9:36 AM ET | 07-01-2008

When my ex-husband died I was his caretaker. His response to being told her was dying amazed me. He was at instant peace. We never talked about why but I believe it was because his tumultuous life that he could never control was finally going to end. He would be at peace as he had never been in life. I pray that we will all have that peace at the end.
Charlotte in Rural Ridge, PA

Sent by Charlotte Kewish | 9:37 AM ET | 07-01-2008

What a wonderful relationship you have with your oncologist; during my treatment "my" doctor was a little less forthcoming with his own views and feelings.

As for peace...it comes to me in little pieces: ah yes that chocolate; a really good night's sleep; hearing a child's belly laughter; moving in water without pain. Those pieces are treasured even as, or because they are, fleeting.

Peggy

Sent by Peggy | 9:44 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I do think peace essentially is acceptance. There is the wailing that crescendos and then levels off.

Sent by Linda Lee | 9:59 AM ET | 07-01-2008

When my dear friend's husband was dying, he wanted only to "go home and sit on his porch". We had no idea how we would handle this but would try. Then the Hospice nurse came to us and explained all they would do to help. Peace settled in us at that time. We never got to bring him home but knew the wonderful people of Hospice gave us a peace never before felt and helped us endure losing this good man.

Sent by Betty OConnor | 9:59 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Good morning Leroy,
I can't write anything coherent today, I guess I'm still looking for that Peace, good blog though.

Hey Leroy, if you keep writing I'll keep reading.

Sent by Donato S. | 10:04 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Dear Leroy,

I believe I shared this poem before, but it seems to be especially timely today. (Hopefully the formatting isn't too jumbled.) Thinking of you often.

The Peace of Wild Things - Wendell Berry

When despair grows in me
and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Sent by Linda | 10:09 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Thank you Doctor Meyer for sharing and ending with a question. What is Peace? It is the tranquility and serenity of having done your best!!
Peace be with you!
Have pain free day Leroy.
Marelly

Sent by Marelly Young | 10:26 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I really loved and related to Debra's comment above. That is my idea of peace too. I think if you train yourself to recognize and appreciate those rare quiet and love-filled moments, you become more and more aware of them throughout the day and with practice they become easier to seize.

That being said, I believe the first major obstacle in finding peace in the quiet moments where pure love and contentment is so evident and uninterrupted is the inevitable fear and anxiety of losing access to such moments, and feeling like one's time with the cherished people, nooks, places or activities that nurtures one's soul are numbered. There is also the anxiety looming of someday not being able to provide such peaceful moments for the loved ones that depend on you for them. I suspect for many people the latter fear is probably the larger of obstacles.

I remember one post of Leroy's from earlier this year discussing how he desired more from life, not anything out of the ordinary or along the lines of "the Bucket List", but just "more of the same". Contemplating the raw truth to that comment has helped me realize just how much of what we're calling "peace" can be found in my own mundane daily rituals.

Sent by liz | 10:31 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I've been pondering the question for the past four years. Odd thing is, when John was pursuing active treatment, there was no peace other than odd moments between treatment. It's hard to find peace in the invasive onslaught to the body and yes, to the soul.

As John's cancer finishes its work, I have peace in knowing that I can support us and that he doesn't have to struggle to continue to work. I find peace in the bits of time we have together now that he has no where else to be, in the ability to spend more time together. As he transitions into the life to come, we finally have some peace.

We've found some peace in knowing that we did all we could to overcome the cancer. When the doc said that John has exhausted treatment, there was a moment of peace and clarity for us. His doc, like yours, is very caring and was obviously not at peace making that statement, but it brought us respite from the uncertainty of the previous years.

Now we find peace in being in the moment. In the moment when our granddaughter grabs his nose and laughs. In the moment our grandson runs and grabs his hand and kisses it. In the moment we sit and hold hands watching the sunset in the evening.

Tomorrow? And the tomorrow after? I've learned to stop pushing for the tomorrow and that also had brought me peace.

Shalom

Sent by Ricci | 10:31 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Love your message today Debra from New Hampshire. Very touching, loving, and yes, Peaceful. What a heartwarming picture you painted about your seven yr. old. Yes, that would be Peace to me!

Sent by J C R | 10:39 AM ET | 07-01-2008

For any doctor, if you cannot offer a "cure" perhaps peace is a gift. I hope I am cured, but I would like peace if I am not.

Sent by Dianne (DC) | 10:51 AM ET | 07-01-2008

What a magnificently honest exchange you and your doctor friend have had, and how forthright and thoughtful his remarks today. Peace is a choice, I think. I will type in a moment the glorious quote I discovered this morning when turning my calendar to July. I believe the description says what I believe about peace better than I can. The monk Thich Nhat Han says: "Enlightenment, peace and joy will not be granted by someone else. The WELL is within us, and if we dig DEEPLY int eh rpesent moment, the water will SPRING forth." Reminds me of what St. Exupery wrote in The Little Prince, "what makes the desert lovely is that somewhere it hides a well." Cancer may be a desert many face, but with mindful digging, we can each tap that invisible and bountiful well.

Sent by with love and care to each on this blog, Sarah | 10:52 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I am reading Robert Moss's book Dreamers Book of the Dead and cannot recommend it too highly. It holds great wisdom for mortals and creative ideas about ways of living that ease our transition from the body into whatever lies next. One line that stuck with me from last night's reading: "As in the process of purgation that Dante described, the rewards of a journey are sometimes commensurate with its difficulty, especially when the journey is coming home to the heart."

Sent by Sarah | 10:59 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I think peace comes when we know, as Julian of Norwich said, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well".

Hard to accept in the middle of the storms of cancer treatment, but knowing that everything will be -- and is -- well brings peace.

I think of peace a lot while sailing. Since I stopped being terrified at every lurch and tip of the boat, I've found many peaceful moments, even when the waves are going crazy around us.

The sea is wide, our boats are small, but the sails are full of hopeful wind.

Love to you, Leroy.

Kate

Sent by Kate Murphy | 11:08 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy,
I came to you through the Koppel documentary. I know you worked with him and from your temperment it is easy to see why you are such good friends. Ted remains one of the most interesting,curious and thoughtful people on television. Through his appearance on GMA, we know his wife suffers from a chronic illness (COPD)and from his documentary on cancer we know how deeply he cares for you. I am enormously curious as to his thoughts on peace. Are you/he able to share them with us?

Sent by KEM | 11:28 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace to me came yesterday, living with cancer and being able to celebrate my first wedding anniversary.
I am at the best place in my life at 50, and I just want to live and enjoy more. Living with cancer I found love!

Sent by Lisa Lindstrom | 11:49 AM ET | 07-01-2008

I don't know why your doctor made me cry - but he did. Maybe peace is KNOWING and neither he nor you KNOW what will be. I pray for you Leroy, that is all I can tell you - Please find something in this day that will give you a moment of peace.
Love, jan

Sent by Janice Goldberg White | 11:49 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace is a ghost! It's shadow seems to be in the periphery of some days, not there at all in others.

Having hope is important, I have hope gas prices will drop. Yes, I know stupid, but you get the idea.

This is a lonely place, hope is what you have. Doc, thanks for your thoughts. Stan

Sent by Stan Wozniak | 11:50 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy,

I think peace is the absence of conflict - of any kind.

Blessings.

Sent by Diana Kitch | 11:54 AM ET | 07-01-2008

dear Leroy, you wrote that your
cancer "exploded", with many mets...
Well, nobody know why...the biology
of cancer spreading is still a mystery...but what do you think about?
conventional oncology does not know
how to stop mets...and I suspect
some mets are IATROGENIC, induced
by conventional treatments as surgery
radiation, immunosuppresive drugs like
steroids...my opinion of course...

Sent by cmarta | 11:54 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Wow Leroy - I think this is the first time I've disagreed with you!

I think peace is the constant while everything else moves, swirls and rampages.

Peace is what we can return to when our brains won't shut up. Peace is where we can go when our bodies are tired and sore. Peace is quiet and safe in the midst of wrenching grief. Peace is knowing you are still Leroy, not Cancer. Peace is small, private and still and yet wonderfully open, expansive and connected. And free!

Peace is just you, with yourself, as you are, with no need to change anything internally or externally because you've come to realize it is all ok.

It is just so hard to find my way there, so much of the time.

Sent by keri | 11:55 AM ET | 07-01-2008

Folks

I've spent a lot of my life and energy working on world and community peace (and justice) issues. Within the world of cancer, we certain have both coming in from the outside as well as the inside. Just think what the financial, relational and spiritual costs of this disease - to say nothing of the physical and medical costs do to the inner peace of people who deal with cancer as paients, servivors and caregivers. I've been lucky and blessed myself. Having cancer has taken my dedication to life (L'Chaim1) to whole new levels - and revels - however long life may last. But right now that's more than a bii too easy to say to those of you whose physical pain and other sufferings are so much greater than mine. So all I can do is wish and pray you, Leroy, Laurie and everyone else all the healing that's out there for you and the strength to work for peace at all levels in whatever ways you feel called upon to do so.

Vaya con Dios,
johnshippee@hotmail.com GBM 4

Sent by John Shippe | 12:09 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Thanks Dr Meyer for the great thoughts and for taking such good care of our hero. You've hit on how elusive it can be and how hard it might be for you to say or for someone to hear when dealing with a big blow or a lot of pain.

Linda - I loved that poem. To live completely in the moment, without judgement, without worry about what comes next...simply existing and accepting and focusing hard on the good can only help (me? us?) to experience more happiness and satisfaction. I know it's harder said than done and there are people who spend their lifetimes trying to achieve that state consistently. Still I wish it for all of us...if we cant choose of our response to our circumstances, and how we feel about them, then what is left to us?

Sent by Nichole in FL | 12:15 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Dear Leroy,

Your doctor is indeed one very fine human being ~ Thank you (and him!) for sharing his perceptions with us.

There are so many beautiful forms of prose and music speaking of peace ~ I love finding nuggets of the ages that illuminate that sacred state. That said, I do agree that Debra has captured the essence of peace most beautifully in her message this morning ... Peace is to be found in those fleeting moments; moments of presence and awareness and gratitude for whatever it is that brings us to LOVE.

"What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the winter time. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."
~ Crowfoot

Wishing you sustaining moments of peace today (and every day), forever and always,

Kim Forester

Sent by Kim Forester | 12:21 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Dude...peace is satisfaction. And acceptance. My dad, the old army first shirt, didn't find peace until he was diagnosed with his lung cancer. He had seen too much death (he fought in WWII, the Korean War, and in Viet Nam), had smoked too many cigarettes, drank too much whiskey, lost his temper too many times, and had been involved in too many fist fights to know what peace and calmness was. Finding peace during that time wasn't an instant thing for him, but a process. It was a process for our family, too. I knew he had found peace when something happened that he would have normally had a cussing fit about, but this time, his reaction was a flip "Stuff Happens." Well, maybe, being a retired 1SGT, he didn't exactly say "stuff," but just that he wasn't turning the air blue with his reaction was a shock to me. I wanted to ask him at that point what space alien had invaded him and taken over his body, but it was just like the hospice literature said...he was coming to terms with his life. And his passing. And he was accepting what was unfolding.

The good thing about my father's journey is that it showed me how people can change, even when they're facing the grand finale. In many ways, the 23 months he was around after his diagnosis was the most beautiful time of my life with him. I'm proud of him and grateful for the things he taught me, not only during my life, but especially during that time as well.

So, that's why I always wish you peace....because having it and living it is life changing. No matter where you are in the journey....

Sent by Joyce in FL | 12:27 PM ET | 07-01-2008

After reading Dr. Meyer's comments, I was drawn to a reflection of Catherine of Siena:
"Be my companion through the darkness of this night.
Put words of peace in my heart and on my lips this night, tomorrow and all the days of my life.
You alone know what joy awaits the peaceful soul, the good that you have in yourself that you will share with me.
Do not leave me empty.
Bless my eternity with perfect happiness you have promised.
You have loved me even before I existed, and knowing this, I can place my trust in your love and set aside every fear. Amen.

Sent by Kate | 12:34 PM ET | 07-01-2008

So many moving and thought-provoking responses today -- and it's still early morning here in California. I guess the one that feels truest for me is the Wendell Berry poem sent by Linda. I often feel a deep sense of peace when I am walking by the river or watching a hawk soar or staring into a deer's eyes.I'm not sure why. It just helps me to get outside myself. Same with staring up at a sky full of stars. But it is not constant -- just blessed, fleeting moments. This morning my mind is far from peaceful, as I just learned of the death of a young man, just 26, in a car accident yesterday.He has been a good friend of my son since they entered 2nd grade together.Our hearts are broken.I hope his parents can find some peace, but I imagine that will take a long time, if it ever comes.

As far as cancer is concerned, right now I am NED, so it seems presumptious to speculate about how I will find peace when/if the cancer returns and I run out of treatment options. Acceptance seems to be the key, but that can ebb and flow from day to day,no? As long as we are alive, it seems to me, we are subject to human emotions.

Peace be with you all today.

Sent by Doris | 12:35 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy, your oncologist is a brave person, as are you, for being public about the work you two do together to heal your body. Thank him for asking the question that all of us must answer, even if we don't get cancer.

I believe that peace is the way I live my life as it is manisested in the world by my actions and my words.

It was so critical to my life that I searched and searched for a community that also believed that peace is a pillar on which to build one's life.

So, when my cancers (Lymphoma (2001) and Prostate 2007) were diagnosed, they were never seen as my enemies. They were living things that were living in the wrong place.

The cancer cells were just "lost" and were trying to find their way home. So I spoke with them on a daily basis in a peaceful way. Whatever was creating the cancers also was asked to find a new place to go and live.

Each day I would meditate with them and ask that they move on to somewhere where they wouldn't hurt anyone or anything. I explained the harm they were doing as there is no doubt they were just trying to survive, like me!

With the help of my doctors and nurses and their medicine and with the Healing Light my community kept sending to us, the cancers went to another place where they, too, can live in peace without hurting others.

Holding all of us in the Healing Light.

Sent by Free Polazzo | 12:45 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace is the absence of fear.

Peace comes fast to me when there is laughter.

Peace comes upon me when I am in Creation.

Peace comes even faster when someone expresses to me why they love me: when they tell me I am loved and worth while to them and help them in their life. A friend told me these things yesterday evening, so unexpectedly, when I was feeling badly and I had great peace for the rest of the evening and night until I lay my head on the pillow. I was shocked and then greatful.

Peace is the calm faith in the goodness and purpose of the Universe in the midst of the worst storms of my life including facing death.

Once I started to experience Peace with some regularity I realized it was present as a deep well within me that I could call on if I was in a difficult time and conscious enough to call upon it (which I am often not). It then just comes though when I take this action.

People say I have peace...now I don't get that at all because when people say this it is when I'm feeling pretty bad inside...and bad stuff is happening UGH!

When I have been in the midst of terrible pain focusing on the pain and asking for calmness to intervene brings peace amidst the pain and that makes it more manageable.

Chocolate can bring on Peace...oh boy!

Thanks Leroy for soliciting the response of your friend, Christian. And thank you Christian for such an intimate and revealing response.

With Love, Graham from Sag Harbor

Sent by Graham G. Hawks | 12:53 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy, For me, peace is doing all I can and then giving it to God and letting Him take care of me. This takes the burden from me and lets a power far greater than myself give me comfort in my struggles. Peace be with you.

Sent by Barb P. | 12:57 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Wow! Powerful stuff today, Leroy.

I'm so glad you have a caring, compassionate oncologist like we had for Pat. I'm still in contact with her and finally realized today that I should have shared this site with her long ago. I know that she would, like me, appreciate the insight that our cancer army/garden gives. As I've said before, Pat was not the talker in the family, I was, so he didn't always share what he was going through.

After three years, I'm finally getting to a peaceful place in accepting his death. Will I ever like it? Absolutely not! But peace really does come with the 'it is what it is" idea. That's the caregiver's side.

Pat's peace came when HE decided that enough was enough. He told me his wishes and then just settled back and enjoyed the company of family and good friends for as long as he could.

As a Catholic, I also have found solace--and peace--in the knowledge that we'll see each other again one day. I think that the Sign of Peace in the Mass is an affirmation of that and that we're all in this thing called life together. That even as strangers, we're never alone--we can, and do, reach out to one another.

Pretty much what we do in this world you've created, Leroy. Again, thank you for that. What a gift you have given us!

Peace be with you and Laurie.

Kathy B.

Sent by Kathy B. from Michigan | 1:07 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace is my home a place where I can just be. Sitting on the couch in the arms of my husband. Just being.
Its sitting talking to my Kids talking about everyday life.Listening to them laugh and joke with each other.
It rests with my Grand Baby in a rocking chair cradling her in my arms while she sleeps. Or out on the patio telling her about what God has created.The birds the flowers and just blue skies.
Peace for me is just being with those I love in a place we created together.
Peace is knowing those who love me care cancer or not.
Cancer sometimes is conflict I agree with that. But even so there are many times I feel peace conflict or not its around me.
When there is conflict I do one thing that brings me peace and thats go sit by the lake give it to God and then I have peace.
Sometimes peace has come for me not dwelling on the cancer but living the life I have left and those who love me.
Peace is constant, maybe its just being quiet enough to feel it and still enough to embrace it.
Wishing you Peace Leroy

Sent by Kerry in Michigan | 1:08 PM ET | 07-01-2008

p=tk2 (peace = truth x knowledge squared)

Sent by Dave Wright | 1:10 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Que la paz sea siempre contigo.
With love, Angela

Sent by Angela Glez. Granada | 1:18 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Dear Leroy,

Peace is an elusive commodity for all of us, sick or well. I know I struggle daily to "make peace" with a decision I have made, or the direction my life is taking. I can only hope that as my time on this earth ends, I will find the kind of peace I visualize in the 23rd Psalm, where "I lie down beside still waters,... and walk through the valley of the shadow of death without the fear of evil". There I hope to find the cool comforting hand of the Lord and an end to all the worries, pain and cares of this life, and an acceptance that all is now out of my hands to question or agonize over and into his, as it really always is anyway, if only I could get to that point. That will be peace for me.

My deepest prayers and wishes for peace and comfort and healing for everyone, in whatever manner you need it most.

Sent by Connie | 2:00 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace for me is the realization that no matter what "bad" things are happening to me or those I love on any given day, I can still find great joy in the midst of pain through the littlest things. (A child's laugh, a perfect flower, and chocolate of course). One does not preclude the other. And I refuse to feel guilty about feeling that joy even if others are not able.

Sent by Cathy | 2:00 PM ET | 07-01-2008

It was good to hear your doctor's thoughts. I have found doctors much more effected than I would have expected by there having to give bad news. I feel guilty that I want to comfort them. We all need to find Peace in our own way along this journey. Some of us will struggle more than others but hopefully we will all find our own comfort place. It is hard for me to find peace when so many around me suffer but I hope we will get there.

Sent by Dona | 2:02 PM ET | 07-01-2008

I think "peace" is kind of like love. You know it when you get there and you "feel" it! May we all "feel" it and be surrounded by peace and love!

Sent by Lucy | 2:03 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy, I didn't see my photo in the gallery and lots of others that post here that I was looking forward to seeing. Is it possible to put all the photos in a gallery somewhere? Thanks.

Sent by Ruth White | 2:17 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace for my late husband was somehow believing that we, his wife and 3 kids, would be okay after he was gone.

We tried to convince him of that, and 2 yrs. after his death, we are still motivated by the need to demonstate it to him and, by default, to ourselves.

In the end, peace for him was knowing that I was there in the room with him. Knowing that I could give him that peace was a gift for me.

Sent by Marilyn | 2:28 PM ET | 07-01-2008

One of the things I am most grateful for was to have the experience of seeing my mom "at peace" in the last hour of her life as lung cancer overwhelmed her body. Holding her hand, running my fingers through her hair (just as she used to do), and talking quietly to her as she looked at me and tried to share her last thoughts -- she finally became still, her face became soft, and it was truly the look of what I imagine to be the deepest kind of peace. Despite the enormous sadness and pain that I felt in saying good-bye to her, I too felt the peace that came from knowing that she was free of pain and that we had both said what we needed to say. What is peace? I think it's being present with whatever the experience of the moment is -- by removing the expectation that something SHOULD feel or be a certain way, we can just breathe into what is.

I wish your family deep peace in the midst of your continued journey. Thank you for creating this community of loving, wise, and inspiring people.

Sent by Sue | 2:36 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Dear Leroy, Today is the 3rd anniversary of my Dad's death. It still seems like yesterday... And I still miss him, but it's a bit easier. Like I remember his jokes, or his habits and smile instead of crying. As far as peace goes, it's what I wish for you all the time. Peace to me is the place in which you are most comfortable, maybe physically, maybe mentally, hopefully both. To me that is when I am not worried about tomorrow, or second guessing yesterday. I work hard at living in the moment, the place where peace is. Thank you for the thoughtfulness of this topic. Peace, peace, peace. Namaste.
Susan

Sent by Susan | 2:44 PM ET | 07-01-2008

It took until the last two weeks of my Mom's life for me to quiet myself enough to realize that peace was within my grasp. It was there all the time, but I was a whirl of fear, clinging, anger, denial and on and on. Alas, none of those things changed my mom's diagnosis, lengthened her life, or even made me a more effective advocate for her. Paradoxically, at the time I felt most personally defeated, I evolved to being truly present with my Mom in a way I never before experienced. In no way do I see peace as resignation. It is something quite different, something daring. It requires us to let go of the thoughts and fears that flood our minds, and to be present in the moment as hard as that can sometimes be. My life is now filled with many more of the type of moments described by Debra. And I am also much more aware of the bittersweet nature of all of our lives.

Sent by Holly | 2:58 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Kathy B. from Michigan - I agree with you 100%. "I am finally getting to a peacefull place accepting his death. Will I like it - NO!!!!" I know that I did everything I could to help my husband and I am at peace with that. I also know that he was at peace knowing that his wishes were carried out completely.

Sent by Deb from Michigan | 3:11 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Dear Leroy,

For me peace is found in acceptance. As a christian when I keep my eyes on the Lord I have His peace, the kind of peace that doesn't make sense in the midst of the storm. But when I take my eyes off Him and look at the circumstances, well that can put me in a tailspin. That's what happened to me when I first heard I had cancer and later that I would lose my right arm and shoulder. I didn't think I could handle all that was ahead of me, but God gave me just enough strength and grace to face it one day at a time. As my pastor says, it's daily bread, not weekly bread or yearly bread.

It is so kind of you to let us walk alongside you each day. I thank you for your transparency, your humor and for sharing your awesome gift of the written word. Your words are heartfelt.

From Linda in Kirkland, WA

Sent by Linda Hughes | 3:14 PM ET | 07-01-2008

I think peace is coming to terms with today and what it holds, and being ready to face tomorrow should we be in the next life. I personally find my peace in God and his word. Love and Hugs to all.

Sent by Teresa in WV | 3:16 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy:
Peace is all around us, we just have to look hard to find it. For Survivors and Caregivers it's even harder. Just don't give up the search. You'll sometime find it in unexpected places:
Meditation III

I found my inner peace in St. Margaret's Church,
Repeating the names of Saints, ending with "Pray for us".
My mind quiets and contemplates.

I found my inner self in my own silent room,
Breathing mindfully, calming all my senses.
My psyche quiets and examines.

I found my inner soul in Sinnepuxent Bay,
Focusing, feeling, finding clams with my mind-eyed toes.
My spirit quiets and reflects.

Inner peace, inner self, inner soul--all the same goal,
But each road, each path, is so different.
Does it matter which one I take?

Love, Don

Sent by don winslow | 3:24 PM ET | 07-01-2008

I saw my oncologist last week. Tumor markers are steadily rising, doubling over the past 2 months. So rescan--this takes a week to schedule, followup with the doctor---another week. Maybe change the medications, rx plan and possibly a clinical trial. This just increases the anxiety and you feel like you are wishing your life away--waiting for the next appt. I am always hoping for some resolution but it never seems to come. What is peace with stage IV cancer??? It is living entirely in the moment without worrying about the future. When I do that I am happy. After all, that is all any of us really has.

Leroy, you remain in my thoughts and prayers.

Sent by Mary C | 4:34 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Hmmmmmm, something to think about. Very interesting. I think peace must be a relative thing and different for us all. For a young mother with kids maybe its reading a good book at night after the kids are in bed. For a teacher it might be the moment, hours or days after all the exams are graded. That's a kind of simple way to think of it. For myself with Stage IV breast cancer it's the twenty minute period after I hear my tumor marker numbers are okay ... and before I begin to worry about what they'll be next month !! But real peace usually comes to me when I am open to all that nature has to offer me, have the time to just dwell in that space, then all else seems to slide away. I'm lucky enough to live in the country so I can do that. The hard part is the being open, if I'm really anxious abpout recent tests etc etc, being open to nature is so much harder. If I'm feeling angry/grouchy because I've had to be too dependent on other people for help that day, it's hard to be open to anything else. That's when a relaxation routine like those we learn on relaxation tapes helps............helps me to relax so I can be open to nature !

One thing I'm sure of is that peace wears many colors, shapes etc..........and is illusory.

Nancy O

Sent by Nancy Oliveri | 5:39 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Someone posted a statement here some time ago (and I'm paraphrasing here) that "when I had hope I had no peace. Now that I have no hope, I have peace." That resonated with me. I get the moving target part. And, sometimes I catch a wisp to hold close. But, overall, I do not have peace with my disease at all. I reject its invasion and fight for my life.

Sent by Tracy | 5:45 PM ET | 07-01-2008

We can accept and still hope against hope, we can accept and still feel anger and regret at our circumstance.
We live in a concrete world and we define everything in terms of what we can see or touch; even our most abstract thoughts our defined by our most limited vocabularies.

Peace transcends everything we know in this world. In rare moments we glimpse the sublime of that which is peace-an achingingly beautiful full sitting on the horizon, a brillant tiffany windowed butterfly brushing by our face, the glimpse into someone's soul- and we feel something move within us that cannot be described but it is a feeling that is instantly recognised by us.Perhaps it is the ancient connection back to the beginning of time that we have not been able to recall while we have lived in this world, perhaps it is the entry into the circle of life and once again to look on the face of God.

May the peace that passes understanding be with you and with all who love you.

Sent by Syndi Holmes | 8:10 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Do we find peace? Or does it find us when we least expect it, when our hearts are open wide?

Last weekend I attended a performance of Bach's B Mass Minor. I had friends on the stage and in the audience with whom I have created music over the years. As I closed my eyes to enjoy the last few moments of the piece - appropriately the Dona Nobis Pacem (Grant Us Peace) - the afternoon sun dipped just low enough to peek through the stained glass windows and bath me in a golden light. The same golden light I visualize in healing imagery. In that warm, exquisite moment, I was at peace.

Sent by Patte Lazarus | 8:27 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Dear Dr. Meyer,

Thank you for allowing Leroy to share your thoughts today. You have a tough, tough job. I know you've walked this road with many patients. And I don't know what else to say except to offer 'peace to you' today and every day. It may sound weird - but take care of yourself too.

Sent by Janice J., Los Angeles | 8:45 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Kathy B, Laurie Hirth, Marilyn, Deb--You all said it for me. Leon found his peace--I'm still looking for mine 15 months later.

Ricci and John, make those memories with the grand-kids...

God's blessings to all,
Jane
P.S. Sasha, are you doing OK?

Sent by Jane | 9:25 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Peace is a feeling of contentment when I am living in the moment, whether it's reading a good book, going sailing, or taking a walk with a friend. It's knowing, without any doubt, that the decisions I am making about my health, and treatment are the right ones for me.
Its freedom from worry and anxiety over whether my cancer will return for a 3rd time. And mostly, it's being quiet and enjoying with a sense of awe when life delivers those moments that are worth savoring.

Sent by beth | 11:40 PM ET | 07-01-2008

Leroy, You have genuinely touched my life. I saw the Ted Koppel special and it moved me to tears, just like all of your blogs do. I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia at the age of 31. I worked in the medical field and knew the word "Leukemia" just never thought I would be on the recieving end of the diagnosis. I had a 2 year old and 9 year old (boys)so giving up never entered my mind. Long story short, I had to have a bone marrow transplant (from my brother, he saved my life). I found peace one day while lying in bed with my 2yr old while he twirled the sprigs on my nearly bald head. He always had to twirl my hair before he went to sleep. As I lay there crying and begging God not to take me from my boys, I felt a wave of calmness come over me and it was at that moment that I knew everything was going to be ok.
Leroy, in my eyes you are an inspiration to all cancer survivors and ordinary everyday people. You are a fighter and although you may not have whooped cancers ass all the way, YOU gave it one hellava beating!!!!! I think peace will find you when you need it to. Always in my prayers, Angel from Oklahoma

Sent by Angel Lemons | 1:36 AM ET | 07-02-2008

I think my husbands peace came when he accepted the fact that he was going to die and soon, and he had the "okay" from his loved ones to let go. As hard as this was for me, it allowed him to go in "peace". Being left behind is one of the hardest things I have ever had to deal with in my life.

Sent by Cindy | 5:07 AM ET | 07-02-2008

Dear Leroy,

I have been reading your blog for almost as long as you have been writing it. I would like to take this opportunity to thank you - for your courage, your straight forward approach, your willingness to share your experience, and the spectrum of thought you have helped generate.

I am wondering these days - how are you feeling?

And I would say this to you: Love is what life is all about.

Grateful thanks,
Rena

Sent by R Janus | 5:45 AM ET | 07-02-2008

My friend, David, was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two months after his friend, Fred, was diagnosed with lung cancer and that was two months after their mutual friend, Steve passed after eight years of living with lymphoma. All three were childhood buddies and dealt with their cancers in vastly different ways. David became a vegan, meditated daily trying to visualize the tumors in his pancreas and liver withering away after each chemo treatment. He survived with minimal side effects compared to those of his friends, 17 months passing in May, 2008. He grew more in those 17 months than he had before the diagnosis. The evening he left for a redeye flight to New York for one last chemo treatment, I knew I would never see him alive again; a personal physician friend tried to talk him into staying in California, but David insisted on going back to New York. The chemo caused complete liver failure and he was too weak to fly back to L.A. so he spent his last month in a hospice in New York. He wanted a spiritual memorial service at the yoga center which gave him comfort and support.......there were no tears at the memorial, it was a celebration of his evolving to a higher level and a celebration of how far he had progressed spiritually. He said before he left, "even if this is my time to leave the planet, I can handle it, but I hope it isn't my time." It was.

Sent by Trish | 6:24 AM ET | 07-02-2008

peace,,. be careful what you wish for. I don't believe that one can have peace in this human existence.maybe brief moments , but serenity amidst the chaos and fulfillment in our everyday activities are maybe more what i pray for. Peace seems like the thing we get in the next realm
so i wish you, Leroy serenity.Jody salem

Sent by jody Salem | 8:24 AM ET | 07-02-2008

peace,,. be careful what you wish for. I don't believe that one can have peace in this human existence.maybe brief moments , but serenity amidst the chaos and fulfillment in our everyday activities are maybe more what i pray for. Peace seems like the thing we get in the next realm
so i wish you, Leroy serenity.Jody salem

Sent by jody Salem | 8:24 AM ET | 07-02-2008

Good morning Leroy,
Just got back from a business trip to NYC and had a lovely suprise. The Rufous are back! http://www.hummingbirds.net/rufous.html
Check out the website for more info. Got to run and refill the feeders--they are fun to watch. Wish you could hear their buzzing sounds and see them when the sun catches their coppery color--what a delight!
Colorado Cupcake

Sent by maria martin | 8:51 AM ET | 07-02-2008

Peace is when we absorb ourselves in all of God's gifts. I never did it until my Dad died suddenly (06) & I then I got cancer (07).
The sunsets, the kids, the gulf, the friendships, but most of all the laughter. I don't want to live without laughter. Laughter is perfect peace to me. I'm smiling thinking about it.

Sent by B.A. | 1:18 AM ET | 07-03-2008

I'm new to this blog - my husband passed away three weeks ago with liver cancer. The emotional pain is overwhelming, but to read the posts from people who've been through it has been a gift. Thank you Leroy, and thank you all for your heartfelt responses - it does help to feel that I'm not alone in this.

Sent by Marsha Bacenko | 3:56 PM ET | 07-27-2008