Post by Sharon on Dec 22, 2021 10:57:59 GMT -6
Through These Eyes by Lauren Ann Isaacson
www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37060
www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37060
THROUGH THESE EYES, written by Lauren A. Isaacson (10 Dec 1961 - 16 Jul 1986), is rare in several respects. At the age of twelve, she was diagnosed as having cancer of the stomach; leiomyosarcoma is a cancer prevalent in older women. She was accepted at the Mayo Clinic for research, and after a five year period was given a clean bill of health. During her sixth year following chemotherapy, she was diagnosed as suffering from the same cancer; it had invaded the liver.
Lauren decided to write her life story. Her treatment of elementary school days, junior high, her year of chemo and her home tutor, her return to ninth grade wearing her wig, the first day she went without that wig, high school experiences, her modeling contract, the way she coped with her impending death, the continuing of her college education until she could no longer physically endure, the trauma of seeing her 32 year old brother die; all relate an aura, a searching for quality in each given day.
Her thoughts on acceptance, awareness, anger, guilt, her views of an omnipotent being, God; her ability to write poetry as she viewed and photographed life around her; the maturity and depth of her writings bring with them humor as well as pathos. She was concerned about those who loved her and those who medically assisted her. It was her hope to help others facing adversity, or who have loved ones suffering the direct trauma. Her journal was her companion as she coped with life. It brought her peace and acceptance; she would hope it could do the same for others.
Much of her manuscript is complete; it was necessary for her to outline journal entries she wished copied. I, her mother, have completed those listings and have related her final two and one half days at Hospice.
Journal entry June 29, 1986…The night is loud with thunder; the deep, sharp rumbling that shakes the house as if to remind the world that it is alive. It is not subtle, but in its brazen clap, I can find reason to rejoice; I live in the shadows of a wondrous and beautiful world, yet thunder is one element of nature from which I have not been excluded, for it penetrates walls.
Lauren's exclusion began after Christmas, 1985. She was confined to her hide-a-way in the upstairs of her home until Hospice on 14 of July, and died 16 July, 1986.
Respectfully submitted,
Muriel K. Isaacson (Mother)
Lauren decided to write her life story. Her treatment of elementary school days, junior high, her year of chemo and her home tutor, her return to ninth grade wearing her wig, the first day she went without that wig, high school experiences, her modeling contract, the way she coped with her impending death, the continuing of her college education until she could no longer physically endure, the trauma of seeing her 32 year old brother die; all relate an aura, a searching for quality in each given day.
Her thoughts on acceptance, awareness, anger, guilt, her views of an omnipotent being, God; her ability to write poetry as she viewed and photographed life around her; the maturity and depth of her writings bring with them humor as well as pathos. She was concerned about those who loved her and those who medically assisted her. It was her hope to help others facing adversity, or who have loved ones suffering the direct trauma. Her journal was her companion as she coped with life. It brought her peace and acceptance; she would hope it could do the same for others.
Much of her manuscript is complete; it was necessary for her to outline journal entries she wished copied. I, her mother, have completed those listings and have related her final two and one half days at Hospice.
Journal entry June 29, 1986…The night is loud with thunder; the deep, sharp rumbling that shakes the house as if to remind the world that it is alive. It is not subtle, but in its brazen clap, I can find reason to rejoice; I live in the shadows of a wondrous and beautiful world, yet thunder is one element of nature from which I have not been excluded, for it penetrates walls.
Lauren's exclusion began after Christmas, 1985. She was confined to her hide-a-way in the upstairs of her home until Hospice on 14 of July, and died 16 July, 1986.
Respectfully submitted,
Muriel K. Isaacson (Mother)