Remember that friend I have who is dying of cancer? Today is her birthday. The fact that this is her last birthday is, at best, difficult to accept and, more aptly, so gut-wrenchingly unfair that I want to go to the top of the highest mountain and scream my objections to the universe until my face turns purple and I collapse in a heap of tears.
I can't wrap my brain around the very concept of her death, the whole idea of what the next few months will bring. I just don't know. I wish for very little pain and much peace for her, of course, but what about me? (I know, I know, this isn't about me...but in a way, it is...) Me? I'll still be here. Assuming I'm not killed in a random accident between now and then, I'll still be here. I'll be getting up every morning, breathing in and out all day, inhabiting my little space on this Earth...without her. How does that work, exactly? Will it affect my daily life? To be completely honest, probably not. My kids will still need to be fed, educated, hugged, kissed, etc. My husband will still need clean clothes, my dog will need his water dish refilled. My friend, who lives two hours away, has little to do with any of that stuff, you know? We no longer see each other on the daily or weekly basis that we used to when she lived closer. So in the abstract, my life will change very little.
But then there will be that moment. That moment that Evan does something really cute, or Erin says something funny or Megan draws yet another picture of Wally The Green Monster (Red Sox) and I'll pick up the phone...and she won't be around to call. What will I do then? I'm guessing that the first few times this happens, I'll simply sit down and cry--sob, really, and wish that things were different. I'll remember all the things I love about her, all the history we have together, all the love our family holds for her and I'll wish beyond possibility that things were different. Then I'll pick myself up, put the undialed phone down, and force myself back into my life. I'll move forward because, truth be told, that will be my only option. Oh, how I wish I weren't so well-versed in this routine.
Happy Birthday, my dear friend, I just don't know what else to say....