Margot’s Story of Strength

“Strength grows in the moments when you think you can’t go on, but you keep going anyway.”

In the Winter of 2016, I was a third of the way done with radiation; eleven sessions completed out of the total thirty-three. I was tired, and my body was still trying to eliminate all the toxins left over from the sixteen chemotherapy treatments I had received throughout the six months prior, but I continued to push through, some days probably too much. My second round of x-rays showed the radiation rays were still going where they were supposed to be; I was slowly developing a nice tan from the top of my armpit to the bottom of my left breast, and smelling daily of fresh aloe with a trace of Aquaphor. Despite the fun the radiation techs and I were having each morning joking around and introducing each other to new music, I wasn’t going to miss that part of the cancer journey. Even though radiation was daily, versus the weekly chemo treatments, the amount of time spent at treatment each day never allowed for the same connections to be made. The schedule at radiation was tight, only allowing for a quick “hi” and “bye” versus spending a three-hour block in the big brown chairs where you had time to talk, and to bond with others in a way only others going through the a similar life challenge can unite.

It has been through my cancer journey that I have truly begun to understand and appreciate the value and importance of true and pure connections with others. Those around you who treat you with true compassion and love; who care so deeply that when they ask you how you are, they truly want to know the answer. I have been gifted with so many compassionate people in my life, so many true and loving people who have been by my side throughout my journey. But what I have loved about this adventure are the connections I have made with others because of the mere fact that we now share something that will change us forever. We are part of a club now, an institution in which you have to hear the words “you have cancer” in order to be accepted. It’s something that is dreaded and never wished upon anyone, but once you’re on the inside you begin accepting things you never knew you even had the ability to accept. You begin to live with a greater appreciation for life; you catch yourself taking deeper breaths just to feel more alive, you see images with clarity and depth, images in your life BC (before cancer) that you would ignore. And most importantly, you are now part of this brand new experience that opens you up to people in this world that you may have never given a second glimpse, nothing more than a half-smile as you passed each other or held a door open as they rushed past you.

We go our whole lives sometimes passing by people we never get to know because we are too busy to take the time to stop and get to know them. We’re programmed to be on a mission; a daily routine that leaves the majority of us wishing time would slow down because we don’t have enough minutes in the day to do all we have to get done. We could be walking past someone who would someday be our best friend, our soulmate; someone who you someday may inspire and motivate, or who will inspire and motivate you. But more times than not, it’s a missed opportunity.

During those cold winter months, I made an unexpected connection with someone I had seen many times at my local gym, but had never had a reason to say hi or to introduce myself. As I was in the middle of my workout, Margot approached me to tell me that she had noticed me in the gym and expressed her joy with my commitment to working out. After a brief interaction, she informed me she is a two-time breast cancer survivor. At that very moment, a connection was made that sparked emotions and quickly turned us from strangers to confidants. We didn’t have to say anything else to each other. We embraced, right there in the middle of the gym floor, and we both shed those few tears we so often do before wiping them away and going back to standing tall. In those brief moments, I made a genuine and pure connection with someone who, without the diagnosis of cancer, I would not have otherwise connected with.

Margot is the type of person you can’t help but feel drawn to; eyes that pull you in and hold your attention, a smile that warms your heart and makes you feel safe in discussing the most vulnerable topics, and a body at the age of 73 that is still lined with toned muscle to be envious of. A laugh that, in turn, makes you laugh. Born in Edinburgh, Scotland, she was raised in a nearby village near Dunfermline, Andrew Carnegie’s birthplace. There, she attended the Carnegie Institute of Music where she learned to play the piano and as an adolescent, attended St. Andrews University, rooming with the English girls’ golf champion. Margot speaks in a tone that is calming and leaves you wanting to hear her talk, just to talk. Life experiences have allowed her to live a life of opportunity, aiding in her story telling to bring you to a place in your mind of envisioning years of history and beauty amongst the landscapes of Scotland. But behind the smile, and hidden within her engaging eyes, there is also a sadness; a life of ups and downs, losses and grief.

With a misdiagnosed breast cancer on two separate occasions, Margot endured two singular mastectomies, nearly 20 years apart. Her cancer journey began in 1989; at the age of 44, and at the exact same time her mother was also battling breast cancer. In order to endure the anxiety, and the uncertainty, Margot utilized bodybuilding to push, motivate, and inspire herself through her lengthy breast cancer journey. As a competitive golfer and tennis player as a teenager, playing the well known courses surrounding St. Andrews University and Scotland’s east coast, Margot learned from an early age to utilize her strength and strong will to pull her through the difficult times in her life. From Scotland’s amazing coastlines and secluded villages, Margot emigrated to the United States in 1965, working for the British Consulate General in New York City. Spending time in both the fast paced streets of NYC, and the mountainous and calmer Hudson Valley, Margot quickly met her future husband, Ronald. Facing the death of Ron’s parents within 6 months of each other, the two married quickly and made Upstate New York their permanent home soon after the birth of their son. It was here, that Margot would begin her breast cancer journey, and once again find her strength and strong will as she would continue to build her strength in the gym while also taking walks, alone and venturing miles at a time, each step releasing the anxiety and uncertainty of what was to come. On days she wasn’t walking, Margot would tune up her three-speed Columbia bike and cycle the mountains surrounding Lake Minnewaska, eventually finding her way back to Kingston. One turn of her pedals at a time, finding a sense of solidarity and peace.

After raising her son, and continuing a love within each other that was envious to many, Margot and Ron would later turn their shared love for antiques into a partner run business. For 20 years, side by side, the couple spent their time searching for the perfect antique pieces to adorn their Gatehouse Antiques storefront; rustic and distressed items, that just like Margot, were rediscovered for their strong presence and beauty to be shared with the world. Walking through the rooms of the Upstate New York Gatehouse, you can’t help but to feel the love that surrounds each hand picked piece; each item adorned with a descriptive handwritten tag pointing out it’s individual uniqueness. Each item, similar to Margot’s childhood in Scotland, showcasing history and beauty; chosen with love, to soon represent a new vision in a new time with a new owner. Walking from one area to another, eyeing the antique spice canisters that brought me back to memories of my grandmother and great-grandmother as a young child, I also felt a sadness in the store; a missing link. As I make my way back to the front of the store, I am struck by Margot’s beauty, sitting tall and strong just like the solid wood table in front of her. She leans over to pick up a picture: “Samantha, have you seen this picture of my Ronnie”, she asks with tears in her eyes. Looking down at the man in the picture, she adds, “I miss him everyday…I just can’t believe he is gone”. We stood together, staring back at the man in the picture who, after 52 years of marriage, passed away in March, leaving his best friend to continue her journey in life with a sadness in her eyes, but also with a newfound sense of strength to keep moving forward, new motivation to overcome life’s challenges and the memories of a love that will forever live on in her heart.

We tend to miss so many opportunities in our short lives to better ourselves. Whether it’s putting off a goal until you are ready to make a commitment, a family vacation until you have extra money, or a dinner with a friend until you have extra time; we miss out on what could be the most important changes in our lives on almost a daily basis. Instead of programming ourselves to live within the means of our daily schedules, we need to step outside of that box and wait and see the amazing changes that can come from it.

A simple introduction. A smile. A “I noticed you” changed my life for the better the day I connected with Margot in the middle of the gym floor. It was unexpected and enriching at the same time. It has been a reminder that others are going through hard times, even though they may look perfectly fine, strong and smiling, on the outside. It has also been a reminder that we never really know someone, connect with someone, if we aren’t truly and wholly invested and are able to show them compassion at the times it’s needed the most.

Our lives are short. Appreciate the compassion you have for others, and the compassion you have received in return. Smile at a stranger, push yourself to make connections you otherwise would allow to pass by. Don’t wait your entire life to take a chance to change your life for the better, a change that too easily could have slipped by.