Saturday, June 2, 2007


This afternoon Lisa & James left.  They arrived here the same day as Chris & me.  As their departure time neared, we all gathered around the van to say our goodbyes.  We made our promises to stay in touch as well as promises to "stay on top of one another" and make sure we have what we need.  It was no surprise to me that I was crying as we said goodbye, but I didn't really know why.  It was just there, so I did.

After talking with Chris and crying a little more (noticing there was definitely something going on for me), I realized what I never could have imagined before I got here.  Each of us here at the clinic, in our own unique way, holds each others hearts in our hands through a bond that I haven't yet found words for.  We know what we're up against and part of being here is being here for each other - complete strangers who each heard our doctor say those few sentences that made a single moment seem like an incredibly bad dream. Do I focus on it? No. It's just there. But today I am so present to why I am here. At this moment I am crying becuase right now I don't want this. I don't want cancer. I don't want Gerson Therapy. I don't wan't to be surrounded by wonderful people who want to help. I just want my simple life back. And believe it or not, inside of this moment of sadness, I know I am exactly where I'm supposed to be.

So, here I am at the Gerson Clinic. And all of here at the clinic are a unique group and our closeness is profound.  We have each chosen the path of healing that speaks to us.  The path makes perfect sense to each one of us and at the same time surprises, confuses, upsets, annoys and in some cases scares the hell out of others.  There is little agreement in the world for a path such as the one we have chosen.  And now that James and Lisa are gone and our little community has become a little smaller, it's apparent how precious our bond really is. I guess the house ain't big enough to bring 'em all home, huh sweetie?

It took cancer and an extraordinary commitment to bring us together and for our humanness to be put aside for what really matters.  At times like this, I recognize how foolish I am as I judge others for what I label as their "short-comings."  At this moment, I am able to see what we are all really here to do on this planet.  Yet, I've been here before, with an experience of immense gratitude for life...until the next person that I find "annoying" states something "stupid" about something close to my heart and off I go again into a world of ego and insecurity all neatly tucked up into my head in a nice little "attractive" costume titled "the truth according to Bert"...and all this beauty disappears.  So...I'll look a little deeper and see if I can find the next piece to let go of in hopes that this beautiful space of gratitude and love for you will stay with me a little bit longer.

So what scares me today, cancer? No. What scares me is typing these thoughts and feelings onto this blog knowing that you're reading it right now and seeing deep inside of my heart.  However, if you care enough to take the time to read this, I will reciprocate with the closest thing I know to the truth.  And hopefully we'll get to know each other a little bit better and let our guard down a little bit more until eventually there's just us and nothing else.  Because as far as I'm concerned, nothing else even runs a close second. Thanks.


  1. we love you to the moon & back....

    xoxodaniela,beau & cal

  2. We are so eager to see you in person!

    When you're finally here I think we'll want to know what you need from each of us. I'm thinking each of us have different gifts to offer you and only you know which ones you want to accept.

  3. Good Evening Bert! We are assuming that you are getting ready to come home! You continue to be such an inspiration to both of us and we want you to know how much we have appreciated you "bearing your heart"! As you shed tear writing it, we shead tears as well while reading it. And you have helped to prepare us for returning to the clinic in Tucson, and for preparing to make the life changes that we need to make as well. We continue to "HOPE" and pray for you each and every day...believing completely that you will be cured from your cancer! We will continue to pray for you in your continuing treatment once you get home as well.

    We hope that sometime, maybe in several months, we can visit...if even by phone or email...but right now you keep your focus on your continued healing!

    Take care,

    Jim and Patti Maybee
    June 3, 2007

  4. Hi Bert,
    We have been reading your updates,
    and thinking about you.
    Not sure when you are coming home,
    but, hope it's soon and you sound
    Miss you,
    and sending lots of good thoughts