Instead I am sitting here contemplating how much cancer has taken from me over the past few years: my best friend; my body as I knew it; a measure of naivete or perhaps blissful ignorance. The faint whisper of mortality has grown to a bit of a cacophony since Kristen was diagnosed with ovarian cancer at the end of 2005.
I hope that the robbery is over. I'd add "forever," but I know that is too much to hope for, so I'll put in my request to the benevolent spirits for a good, long hiatus and hope that someone finds a cure in the meantime.
Perhaps you could take a minute today to think about a friend that you've had for a while. A long while. The kind who knew you when you were young and foolish and did dumb things, and who loves you anyway. A friend who knows things about you that you would rather forget, and is kind enough not to mention them too often. A friend who keeps your secrets and tells you hers, a friend who by the simple fact of her existence makes the world a steadier, easier place for you to reside. Maybe you could call or write her (or him) if you can, and tell her how much she means to you. Life is so short and sometimes terrible things happen without warning. I think it's a good idea to counter them with unexpected wonderful things.