Saying goodby is hard to do
I came across my memory of Susan. A story of many women. I wish it wasn’t so.
People I meet who have cancer.
I came across my memory of Susan. A story of many women. I wish it wasn’t so.
Ageless, petite, dressed in her usual ankle length tights and colorful full shirt. Sitting next to me. Waiting for our turn to get zapped in the radiation room. She said when her mother died of cancer, she didn’t know how to help. Now she knows how to help. She volunteers her hair dressing services to hospice. Very helpful and very satisfying. She is worried. Her cancer is progressing. Who will take care of her hospice patients when she is gone? I said, “Then, you need to get better so you can continue to take care of them.”
Perky and energetic, she invested many hours involved in cancer programs. She exercised, attended support groups. Kept current with local cancer events . Was always happy to share her knowledge. Her cancer was a lymphoma, chronic. Always with her. Always being monitored. Somewhere in her consciousness, she felt unsettled. She was sharing her body with an unfriendly stranger. She took great pride in her children and grandchildren. And in her husband, a good looking supportive man. A cruise is planned for next summer. She is committed and excited about the trip. Still, she wonders out loud, “Will I still Be here?”