Two short essays shared
By Brandon Astor Jones and Stephanie M. Wilkinson
"I once took for granted eating lunch with a friend, scratching my cat Muffet's ears and listening for his purrs, the company of my wife, reading a book or magazine in the quiet of my bed lamp at night, raiding the refrigerator for a glass of orange juice or a slice of toast. For the first time I think I am actually savoring life." — Senator Richard L. Neuburger
Those words appeared in Better Homes and Gardens magazine shortly after the senator's cancer was diagnosed. He noted with candour a "new appreciation of things [he] once took for granted". We understand completely. Living under the spectre of death makes savouring even life's smaller pleasures truly gargantuan experiences. It can make the larger ones — like love and friendship — absolutely ineffable. From the other side of the world, via correspondence, Stephanie Wilkinson's entry into this death row prison cell is one of those experiences.
There are all kinds of cancers in this world: some, like Stephanie's, attack the body; others, like the one chasing me, can attack a society (i.e. capital punishment); the processes and results are the same in all cancers. I have lost many friends to one kind of cancer or another. That is why I am savouring my friendship with Stephanie.
Our friendship deepens in the reciprocal knowing that each of us knows a great deal about what the other is going through. The knowing is as bittersweet as the savouring of these two short essays shared.
Knowing
The doctor looked me straight in the eyes and said, "The cancer is now in your bloodstream". I had previously had breast cancer, and I knew that he was now giving me a death sentence.
At first, I felt as if I had been hit by a train; and over the ensuing months I had to deal with all the emotions — shock, numbness, disbelief, anger, grief — and, finally, acceptance. Whilst there are still days of deep depression, I am lucky to have the support of loving family and friends, and I have found some positive aspects in the situation.
To be given prior warning that death is not far away means that one can settle one's affairs, sort out personal papers, the family photos, write friends and make peace with others. Having prior warning stops us in our tracks and makes us appreciate the good things we have in life — and to show my appreciation especially to a loving husband and children and friends. It helps to appreciate the beauty of the sky, the sea, the birds and trees.
Knowing when you are going to die is perhaps better than being killed suddenly in an accident. A sudden death means that one has no time to say goodbye or to make other preparations.
I know what it is like to live under a death sentence. Maybe there is some divine purpose in all this. Maybe I needed to know and to experience this circumstance, because I now better understand the emotional helter-skelter suffered by prisoners on death row. I feel now that I am better able to support my pen friend who is a death row prisoner in the USA, despite the fact that he does not enjoy all the positive things that I can now appreciate.
Perhaps I have also learned that one can always find something positive in any situation, however terrible. Perhaps the only positive thing we can find is the acceptance of a situation about which we are powerless to do anything; and to be content to hand over our bodies and our souls to the Divine Spirit which controls our fate.
[Brandon Astor Jones is a prisoner on death row in the United States. Australians Against Executions is raising funds to pay for a lawyer for Brandon's resentencing trial. So far over $7000 has been raised. If you can help, please make cheques payable to the Brandon Astor Jones Defence Account and post to 10 Palara Place, Dee Why NSW 2099. Donations to the Brandon Astor Jones Defence Account may also be made at any Commonwealth Bank, account No. 2127 1003 7638.]