Say Something #12

Life can change with the blink of an eye. This happened in my own life not far enough back that I have been wholly healed, though long enough I have been able to recreate and redefine me. A piece of me needed to begin writing to share my recent zest for life. After struggling for months with denial, anger, bargaining, and admittedly depression... it is now, 23 months later, I am beginning to accept the death of T.C.M. My friends and I remember him fondly, and rejoice in what his life was.

Another switch was flipped recently. And since then, so much has changed. The other piece of me, here today, felt compelled to verbalize the story below.

Latte Woman entered my life in September 2011, when I was struggling with the one-year milestone. She has been an integral part of my healing process, a dear friend from day one. 

But in late July, Latte Woman seemed utterly absent from my life. Despite more than one text to reach out to her for coffee dates or wine nights, miscellaneous runs or outdoor play... not a peep from her. It was a rare Saturday, a Saturday free from obligations, a Saturday I began much later than my normal rise time with a late morning workout. Then vaguely suspicious something was terribly wrong, I gathered up the tupperware I had been harboring from all the delicious meals Latte Woman has recently prepared me, and I marched the two doors down to the G's house. I knocked. And knocked. And knocked. Eventually Latte Woman's husband opened the door. We stared silently at each other. With an action plan, he spoke first, "I will go find Latte Woman." From where I was standing in the entryway, I could see her outside, hunched over the deck railing. She was visibly thin, 100 meters away--a shell of her former self. The tension in the air was palpable. I migrated towards the kitchen to meet her halfway. It was the first time in a long time I could not fill the air with words. I was speechless. Her eyes filled with tears, mine followed suit.

I was guided me to the couch to greet her two beautiful boys. And it was then, that the all-too-familiar feeling of heart piercing pain returned--the one where the world standstills, nothing matters, and perspective immediately shifts. Despite M's contagious smile, the bandage on his lower right leg served as the physical sign something was off. My heart silenced the internal screaming.

Distraught, Latte Woman and I relocated to the porch where I learned days before my unannounced visit, 11-year old M was diagnosed with osteosarcoma (bone cancer). We spent the next two hours, together, sobbing. To date, hands-down, the most difficult conversation I have endured with a friend.  The waterworks flowed and flowed and flowed through the afternoon. (My tears brought reprieve to the Northern Virginia drought!) In my feeble human brain this does not seem fair. M is one of the good guys--funny, well-mannered, athletic, bright, giving, and wise (just like his mama!).

At the peak of heat on this July afternoon close friends of the G family arrived with a sushi buffet. We lingered on the porch awhile longer exchanging tearful hugs before heading inside. The gang prepared plates. My nonexistent appetite was undeterred by the gorgeous sushi spread. And I was definitely not alone. I sliced fruit in an effort to be physically doing. I washed dishes in an effort to busy myself. I changed bed sheets with Latte Woman to temporarily remove myself from the downstairs pain and sorrow.

Mostly I listened and observed, cringed and cried for the remainder of the day. 

There is a long, and quite possibly bumpy, road ahead... and I will be there for each leg of the journey. Each one of us may have a grand moment of two in life, but the older I get, the more I am convinced real legacies are about relationships, authenticity, consistent faith, and genuine love. I cannot allow myself to sit around and wallow. I am challenged to wake up each day and live a life more committed to love--not in big Earth-shattering ways, but in seemingly small ways of showing up, serving, and displaying authentic, life-changing love for the people in my life. There is no limit to friendship. I am going to stand behind Latte Woman (and family) and fight this to the bitter end.