Sunday, 16 October 2005
Margaret Tse: the best possible life
By Joseph Planta
VANCOUVER - Margaret Tse died one week ago. She had fought cancer bravely and defiantly these last few years.
Some will know Margaret for her contributions to this website in the past. Some will know her from high school as nearly, if not all of the contributors to this website went like Margaret, to Sir Charles Tupper Secondary. Most who read this will not have known her at all.
I don't remember when it was when I first met Margaret. It was of course at Tupper, from where we both graduated in 2000. But to say where and when exactly, I couldn't tell you. What I've remembered about her, like everybody else, was her effervescent smile, her warming personality and her candid nature about nearly everything around her. It was nearly infectious even for those who weren't extroverts, which behaviour Margaret was nonetheless naturally inclined.
Many have since expressed their memories of Margaret and their remembrances of this remarkable life lived. A unique coda to Margaret's all too short life is that many who loved and admired her got to know her best these last couple of years through her blog: http://www2.caringbridge.org/canada/margaret/index.htm. Margaret blogged to keep in touch with her many friends and family who were far away thanks to time and space. Suffice it to say, from the remembrances left behind she gained some new friends because of her blog.
To a person, those who've left behind words of remembrance or condolence, talk about what a special person she was. Very often when one dies it is often easy to fall into the habit of engaging in overly maudlin remembrance or excessive hyperbole about the life that's just ended. It's perhaps easier to paper over the odd indiscretion or forget any hint of unattractiveness in the life remembered. It's easier, sure, but it's far from fair. In Margaret's case however, the tributes are heartfelt, honest, and apt. And there's no careful tiptoeing at all. The miracle of Margaret was that she was as special as her friends and family have said over the last few days. Many people will attest to the many kind gestures of thoughtfulness had thanks to Margaret's caring. It was a unique trait that was based in generosity and forged in honesty.
As part of her sharing with others, Margaret sort of longed to have a part of her life understood, if not examined. One Labour Day a while ago, Margaret invited me to come to her house for an interview. It was an odd request, but I naturally acquiesced, if only because it was Margaret. I was to interview her, on the record, about some somewhat personal things. There were no rules. I was free to ask anything, and I would write a piece about her. It was not an assignment that I sought. She had asked me to write a piece about her, as she had much to share. She wanted to talk about having cancer. She wanted to share her dreams, her hopes, her aspirations, her fears. She wanted others to know that she didn't need pity. She didn't want cancer to define her, but she wanted others to know just how volatile life was because of cancer. And that despite it all, life went on as normally as she could want it to. And that perhaps she could beat this wretched disease with prayer, faith, a good diet, and the well wishes of friends and family.
That afternoon was really a unique experience for me. In essence, it distils my memories of her. I arrived at the appointed hour, and despite having interview politicians, performers and press people in the past, it was slightly odd interviewing Margaret. At first it was slightly uncomfortable interviewing a friend, but in the light of her eyes and in the warmth of her candour, she made it easy. It soon became a lesson in how to live.
She walked me through her room, with its countless photos and notes attached to the walls. She talked of her many friends and how much she appreciated their warm notes of encouragement. She talked of her family and close friends about their incredible support. She spoke of the extraordinary bond that she had with friends she made, who shared the unique experience of having cancer.
There is a thin line between hope and fear. She then shared her thoughts about the stigma of having cancer. Sure she didn't get to do everything she wanted, but she still got around to do things. She still got to travel. She hung out. She shopped. And though she didn't get to do those things that kids her age did as often as she wanted, she still managed a busy schedule. She didn't allow cancer to render her an invalid in some sick bed somewhere. She took hold of her life and did what she wanted to do, as best as she could.
Were there regrets? Sure. Cancer maimed her. She wept as she talked frankly about cancer costing her her fertility. Her identity as a female, bearing children, was something she would never know. Were there setbacks? Of course there were; simple things we seldom realise, or couldn't possibly understand. People judged her brutally sometimes, thinking she couldn't do some things, because she had cancer. She didn't want to have to explain every detail of her treatment to every single person who called or wrote. Sometimes the weariness of having to entertain others got to her, and she often retreated. Were there people who didn't understand? Of course there were. She didn't know what to do but retreat. She would sometimes lose it, as she put it, but she was ever magnanimous despite it all.
She learned to accept some of the miserable things that life dealt her. She cried from time to time, and she began to find some comfort in that. She questioned things as anyone would, but she always retained an abiding faith. That faith despite all of her setbacks, relapses, and pain, I admired most. Much could be learned from the courage she had in many trying times. I learned from the way Margaret lived her life, but also from the grace and dignity with which she met her final days.
The way Margaret left this life was not the most pleasant of circumstances. But if you look at her life, though short, it was one that was lived well. In a way, it was the best possible life. She could do no harm. She had faith in a being bigger than her. Not to mention faith in those around her that she loved. She was loved. She was kind. She was generous. We can only hope when they tally up the sum of our lives, that we can come out as well as Margaret.
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A celebration of Margaret's life will be held on: Friday, 21 October 2005 at 2.00 PM at the Ruth Morton Memorial Baptist Church, 791 East 27th Avenue (27th and Prince Albert Street), Vancouver, BC.
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