That describes yours truly upon reading my friend’s CaringBridge page.
Her recent CATscan came back to show that her recurrent breast cancer continues to spread like wildfire and is now in her liver.
The doctors give her maybe a year to live.
I’m sad for about a hundred reasons but I’ll only list three:
a) It didn’t have to go this way – her docs mis-diagnosed her from the get-go and had they caught it in time, she would have had a fighting chance.
b) She’s brutally honest in her posts about her condition and how she’s feeling (angry, hurt, etc) and I find I have nothing to say other than that I love her, am keeping her and her husband in my prayers and …. that’s it. What CAN you say? There are no words. Just none.
c) she’s my age and it again reminds me of my mortality
I can sit here on the couch and say that I have no fear of dying precisely because I am not in a place now where I am forced to confront that issue. Who knows what I’d feel if I were?
For right now, I feel transported back to October 2005 when I went to my cousin’s to celebrate my birthday with Lauren and the family. It was after Lauren’s cancer had come back and we all knew the diagnosis was grim. I sat on the couch, hugging her and crying all over her. Cousin O’Love came over, sat down and hugged us too and there we sat, all three of us hugging, knowing that our time together would be short.
I know, to the core of my being, that there is more to all of this than what we see. I’ve experienced it.
But that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel the deep, deep wells of sadness that news like this brings.
Each soul chooses its path. My friend’s soul has chosen hers. All I can do is be there and hug her. And remind her of the fun times we used to share when we worked together at a local department store – all the foibles we shared.
Sigh. There are no words.