I met Suzanne for the first time in the summer of 2006. She arrived at my studio for her henna appointment carrying herself with great pride, in spite of her bald head caused by the chemotherapy treatment she was undergoing to fight breast cancer.
During that first henna session, which was to become one of many, we talked about life and cancer; the shock of developing this disease at such a young age, the fight, the struggle, the pain, but also the little pieces of beauty one finds in between. I was discovering a woman filled with a contagious energy, a deep love for Life, a great sense of humour and an unshakable strength.
In 2008, she accepted to pose for me for a henna portrait I wanted to do with her. I designed an elaborate butterfly on her chest and a few weeks later, the photo (titled When They Clipped My Wing / Transformation) was selected to be part of the Cancer Connection exhibit which toured across major Canadian cities from 2008 to 2010.
A year after the exhibit started, Suzanne came back for another henna to celebrate her 40th birthday, but by that time the cancer had returned and was slowly spreading to the bones. We had a frank discussion about what this type of cancer meant, the advanced treatment available, the battle she was gearing up for and the hope that the henna portrait that was traveling across the country would not become a posthumous photo.
By the first week of October 2011, she was admitted to the hospital's palliative care unit. When I went to visit her, she seemed serene and in a place of acceptance about her imminent death, in spite of the great discomfort caused by the cancer that had reached her lungs and were slowly filling up with fluid. She told me about her dreams of a big black bird that remained by her side. She didn't know what kind of bird it was, but she described it as being all black with a very long curved beak. After a little research, she discovered that the bird was a black ibis and was associated with the Egyptian god Thoth, who was most often depicted as a man with the head of an ibis. In Egyptian mythology, Thoth was considered as “God of equilibrium” and was present once the soul went to the underworld. Suzanne said ever since she had learned this, it brought her peace because she now knew there was something else after death. Her greatest fear was that there wasn't.
A few days after my visit, she asked me if I would come back to henna her hands and feet. She wanted to be adorned with it one last time before her departure. During our henna session at the hospital, we talked as usual about life but more about death, particularly how strange it was to know that you're leaving this earth. She mused with humour about watching the entire first season of Game of Thrones, how she was really getting into it and waiting in anticipation for the next season, only to get frustrated at the thought that she wouldn't get to see it, because... well... as she bluntly put it: “Fuck! I won't be around anymore when the new season starts!” We couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all.
She talked about how clear some things about herself had become, about how she always saw herself as someone who was strong, someone who could take it and then some, a warrior, a fighter. But she realized just how much she used her inner strength to “accept the unacceptable” in her life, to put up with things — and particularly people —, she should never have put up with in the first place. People who lacked kindness, consideration, respect and who often were just plain mean to her. I couldn't help to think that strength is a double-edge sword and how we chose to use it for ourselves and others makes all the difference in how we shape our lives.
She also talked about how often we miss the Beauty that surrounds us, how we pass right by it. There is so much of it. Right here. Right now. All the time. All we need to do is stop and see it, consider the lilies through every moment of Life's journey.
As I was looking in my agenda earlier today, I realized the day I went to henna Suzanne was October 10th. It was Thanksgiving Day. She passed away 13 days later, leaving behind her two daughters, — Alice,16 yrs and Jeanne, 20 yrs — as well as family and friends. It feels so strange to know that she is gone even though I knew her end was near. But I also feel a peaceful joy knowing that I had the privilege to be able to share those last moments with her, creating the kind of beauty that would accompany her during her final days, knowing just how much she loved henna and being aware that I was given the opportunity to adorn her one last time. It was my chance to say thank you and... goodbye.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take the sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
Your were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly
Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
— Blackbird, The Beatles
