These friends show her what ‘courage’ means

Ernest Hemingway defines courage as “grace under pressure.” Psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, in his blockbuster bestseller “The Road Less Traveled,” describes it as “being afraid but acting anyway.”

I have a third perspective to suggest after witnessing the amazing ways two friends moved through their horrendous cancer journeys, all the while sustaining their ability to notice

bright shining moments and rejoice therein.

I’m thinking of the way

Dawn, 59, after nine years of suffering from four kinds of cancer, still lights up when she tells me how much fun she and her husband had when they took their grandkids for ice cream. She was beaming as she described this simple life pleasure. I sat listening in awe, and wondering if I would able to transcend what Dawn has, month after month, year after year.

A younger friend, Marie, 41, was diagnosed with a rare form of uterine cancer of which only 400 cases exist globally, and which eventually ended her life. She never lamented, “Why me?” Instead of complaining about the rigors of wig shopping, for one example, she described the experience, chuckling at some of the weird wigs she tried on. Marie exuded the same radiance, maybe even more, as she did pre-cancer.

She also never failed to inquire about my life and continued to bring me, when she visited, bags of her homemade nut-studded chocolate.

When I ruminate on this pair of unvanquished women, the word courage keeps coming up, eventually giving rise to my definition: Courage is the capacity to suffer consciously without losing sight of and while even celebrating the gifts of the present moment .

Looking back on my cancer journey 19 years ago, quite mild in comparison (actually a Stage 0 cancer in which the intruder cells remain in the ducts yet must be destroyed before they meander out), I sure could’ve benefited from an infusion of my friends’ sparkling spirit.

Their attitude and responses to major life challenges call to mind psychiatrist Viktor Frankl’s words about how he and others survived years in a concentration camp:

“Everything can be taken from a person but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

Clearly Dawn and Marie each chose their own uncommon ways. I am grateful to have witnessed their courage.