The thread that pulls my fabric back

It was a year ago today, by the date, that I heard the news, that I stood in the room, sat on the bed, listened to the Doctor in the white coat, trying to escape his words and his misting eyes by focusing on the emptiness of the starched white cotton he wore, but hearing his voice all the same. I held my friend tight as she heard the news about the love of her life. There's nothing else we can do.  That's what we heard, that's what we were told. And that news? It's the worse you can hear.  It's when your doctor tells you that you can no longer try conventional or alternative medicine, there are no more trials for which you are a candidate, can no longer delay making end-of-life plans, can no longer hope for a different outcome.

Pray.

The doctors told us that day that she might live for two weeks. I couldn't walk, couldn't sleep or eat, but she, she marched on, and lived much more beyond that. That's who she was.  She's no longer here and it's not because she lost the battle that Ovarian Cancer raged against her. Oh no, she did not lose the fight. What she did was choose. 

Yes I understand that every life must end
As we sit alone, I know someday we must go

She chose faith and grace. She chose to take her remaining days and make them her own.  She chose to live until her life left her.  I still don't know, can't imagine even though I witnessed, the grace and strength she lived, she gave.  I am still in awe and still learning from what I experienced.

I miss her, so very much.  I miss the hope, the fight, and even the resignation.  I miss the quiet moments, scrambling a single egg for her, reading to her, and the shopping moments in search of the right apple juice or finding something perfect for her to wear at Thanksgiving dinner.  I miss rubbing her legs and running my fingers through her soft hair.  I miss her rolling her eyes when I would ask her if she was doing okay. 

I miss her needing me and I miss my giving to her.

I miss all the years before we ever knew.

I miss the warm November day when her hospice bed arrived and we decided to leave the mattress outside for the afternoon, and she placed her frail body on the soft bedding and absorbed the sun behind her Chanel sunglasses, and smiled her smile as we sat beside her delighting in her presence in the unseasonal warmth.

I wonder everyday as I look upon your face
Everything you gave
And nothing you would take

I miss the chilly December walks we would take her on, dressed in her mink coat and mittens, in her wheelchair, along the neighborhood streets we would slowly and peacefully go.  I miss the way that coat hung on her shoulders, those gloves hugged her fingers, that lipsticked smile so very much her own peaking through the wraps. 

Stay with me
Let’s just breathe

A year ago, I wrote the words below.  I wrote them in my reaction to the news, in my reaction to what my best friend had just heard about the love of her life.  I had no idea what was ahead but I understood that there would be a finishing line, one we couldn't wrestle or control, one we couldn't change, but one I knew in which we would stand together and do every single thing we could possibly do to make it peaceful for her. 

And we did.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
October 6, 2009

There are times when nothing in you arsenal prepares you, times when your experiences, your lessons, your favorite sentence in your favorite book, your beating heart, your grieving heart, your epiphanies learned from your private moments, your incessantly pulsing blood, your empty but soul-searching time spent in nothingness while driving from here to there, your fist raised in the air, your favorite photograph or most delicate ornament on the Christmas tree; none of it can prepare you for what you hear when you hear the words. When the immediacy of knowledge spikes your brain and shreds your soul, strangles your breath and steals your hopes. There are no experiences you've painted your name on, nor any that have branded their name on you, none at all that will step up and console you. None that will say to you, it will be okay.

It won't be okay. Life will go on, but it won't be okay. And this? Knowing this? This will be the secret and most regrettable voice in your mind, in your heart. It will be the day you never forget and the words you will forever despise, the words that will always take you down, because this was the moment you will forever trace your weary fingers backwards to discover over and over again to be the beginning of the end.

All I can offer you right now right here is this song I heard while taking the long way home tonight.

Just Breathe
- Pearl Jam

Yes I understand that every life must end
As we sit alone, I know someday we must go
I’m a lucky man to count on both hands
The ones I love
Some folks just have one
Others they got none

Stay with me
Let’s just breathe

Practiced are my sins
Never gonna let me win
Under everything, just another human being
Yeah, I don’t wanna hurt, there’s so much in this world
To make me bleed

Stay with me
You’re all I see

Did I say that I need you?
Did I say that I want you?
Oh, if I didn’t, now I’m a fool you see
No one knows this more than me
As I come clean

I wonder everyday as I look upon your face
Everything you gave
And nothing you would take
Nothing you would take
Everything you gave

Did I say that I need you?
Oh, did I say that I want you?
Oh, if I didn’t now I’m a fool you see
No one know this more than me
As I come clean

Nothing you would take
Everything you gave
Hold me till I die
Meet you on the other side