Robin Frentz’s Story

Site created on February 28, 2018

Welcome! I  learned about this site during my first visit to the metastatic support group at the Virginia Thurston Healing Garden in Harvard, MA. I had an intake interview there over three years ago but could not muster the courage to return to one of their support groups or to take a class. Last fall I dipped my toe in the water and returned to get some massage therapy for a frozen shoulder. I learned how calm and inviting the energy feels at this cancer support center located in the middle of residences, farms and forests a half hour west of where we live.

 I deepened my awareness of “being held” by attending a sound and meditation class with my sister Alice, a recent lung cancer survivor. Having Alice and her extroverted charm accompany this old, quiet Dharma dog, gave me permission to “put my whole foot in” and attend my first support group. I feel relieved that I found these courageous, kindred spirits who are walking the same path as me. We can help each other by sharing our advanced cancer experiences with heart and humor while we are living on the edge.

My breast cancer has been a long and challenging journey; twenty-three years of treatments, surgeries, remission and progression. It has been scary and overwhelming, alienating and draining. Yet it continually offers up gifts of lovingkindness, support, humor and connection.

It began in June of 1995 when our daughters were eleven and seven. We lived on our farm in Walpole where our Hereford cattle herd and our retired bay thoroughbred, Five Alarm, had the run of the barn and all the green pasture grass they could possibly desire. Ken was always building some amazing piece of furniture in his cabinet shop. Our labs, Bear and Tess, followed by Chance and Bosco, always our protection-dogs, kept the girls safe on their swings. As soon as they heard Ken’s call to, “Get those Geese!” our labs would temporarily abandon their backyard post to chase a loudly honking gaggle of Canadian geese. Down flying everywhere, the gaggle would  scatter upward and onward, and far away from the lush alfalfa fields below our house. Life was good.

The family has grown up. We have since moved from our two cattle farms to a rural suburb abutting a 14-acre town field west of Boston. And we still have two warrior doodles, loving and protecting us, and, as always, keeping us safe. Ken constructed the same post and rail fence he has been putting up over all his farmlands since childhood, to keep the town cattle out and Fillmore and Truman inside our yard. But that doesn’t keep these cuddly therapy dogs from responding to a similar call when they hear Ken yell from our back terrace to, “Get those turkeys!” Have you ever seen a turkey fly over a post and rail fence? It’s an amusing sight. Life is still good.

I want to make this a place where I can let my loved ones know how I’m doing as my cancer progresses. And I hope you will stay in touch with me about all your life experiences, too. I want to celebrate our shared human existence. We are ALL fortunate  to  be here at the same time, “in this” together.

Life is ups and downs, ins and outs, beginnings and endings. We are all living on the edge! I want this site to be an extension of my cancer support group. This is our Middle Ground, a safe container we are creating together. Let’s share and care, send love and be loved, no matter what.

Newest Update

Journal entry by Robin Isaacs

Being a warrior has nothing to do with fighting or winning. She doesn’t battle for the sake of harming or stealing anything away from others. In fact she doesn’t battle anything at all, except maybe, her own mind.  She remains strong and fair and open, true to herself and to everyone and anything that crosses her path.


A warrior doesn’t shy away from being frightened or angry or confused. She embraces and learns to work with every emotion and circumstance that comes up simply because she is endowed with bravery and open-heartedness.

 

A warrior learns to lean into these very scary places even though and especially because they are utterly overwhelming. She learns to tame her mind which is the only way to tame the world, one person, one experience at a time. 

We are all born with these very human qualities. It may take a lifetime to uncover this golden gift. Our open and wakeful heart and mind is our birthright. Once we realize our fortune we must learn to own it and to act on it, for the sake of helping ourself and others.

 

I was taught this simple yet extraordinary golden gift of being human many decades ago by a Buddhist teacher. He was a Tibetan tulku who escaped Tibet in 1959 during the Chinese invasion of his Himalayan homeland. Chogyam Trungpa, the 11th incarnation of the supreme abbot of the Surmang Monastery was, like us all, an imperfect human being. His brilliance and pristine knowledge of Buddhist dharma was astounding. But as a human he, like all of us, made mistakes that adversely affected others. Thus, I learned that if he could make mistakes then any of us can. Our actions are based on our intentions. Our intentions are based on our karma (the law of cause and effect). If we are fortunate, we learn to understand and live by wholesome versus unwholesome intentions in order to create a better world. 

 

 I’ve yearned to develop these qualities so I could pass them on to others, especially those I love and who love me. If one lives by this golden gift one eventually learns that everyone falls under the category of ‘those I love’. 

How do we get to this realization? We get here by developing our minds. It all  comes down to how we intend to view our world. How we choose to think about all with whom we share it. It’s about the effort we put in to develop the proper way to communicate and act compassionately toward each other. We get to this understanding if we effortfully contribute our unique skills, our work life, with kindness and mindfulness. The healthy choices we make will allow us to leave the world in a better place than when we got here. 

 

There’s no time like the present to realize our obligation to alleviate the suffering of our pandemic-laden planet. We’re losing our civilization because we haven’t acted upon the wholesome choices which are and have always been right in front of our faces.  It is critical that we learn to accept that our unwholesome choices are always driven by selfishness and ego gratification. It’s as simple as that. 


These are the lessons I’ve learned from my 68 years on this earth; Generosity, Morality, Patience, Joyful Effort, Concentration and Wisdom. These lessons are known as the six Paramitas or transcendent perfections. This is Buddhism in a nut shell. If we practice the paramitas wholeheartedly we can benefit our world. 

 

Why am I bringing all this to mind? Because it relaxes me and gives me great confidence and faith to contemplate and practice the dharma (buddhist teachings). 


That’s what I’m always seeking, especially at this very moment; relaxation and confidence, faith and love.
 I’m seeking it through my own mind and through yours as well. 


I am starting hospice this week. My cancer treatment over the past 25 years has given me the precious opportunity to be right here in this world with my family, my friends . . . all of you. Yet, we all know that nothing is permanent. There are dear ones in my metastatic cancer group who had only a moment to be with us before departing. I miss each and every one of them and all the lessons their living and dying have taught me. 


My treatments have become too toxic for me to continue the harshness of chemo. We have to shelve the intense chemical onslaught to my body as it is only palliative care, not curative medicine at this point. That’s what my doctors say and that’s what I know to be true. 

 

I prefer to feel better in these present moments, to stop coughing, to get out of bed and return to as much joy as possible, pandemic or not. I prefer to walk around the yard and play with my doodles. I prefer to have deep conversations with those I love and to continue to work with my mind as best I can before I die.  


Of course I prefer to be in the world. I also know that the time has come to simply be here and enjoy all of you, to enjoy all I’ve learned, to constantly train in becoming a warrior and to utterly delight in such a luminous view we all share, the art of simply being human.

 
Patients and caregivers love hearing from you; add a comment to show your support.
Help Robin Frentz Stay Connected to Family and Friends

A $25 donation to CaringBridge powers a site like Robin Frentz's for two weeks. Will you make a gift to help ensure that this site stays online for them and for you?

Comments Hide comments

Show Your Support

See the Ways to Help page to get even more involved.

SVG_Icons_Back_To_Top
Top