Cancer

She's dying. We've all believed for so long that she wasn't dying. BUT SHE IS. She's dying and there is nothing we can do about it. The cancer is eating her away and we sit at work, at home, at school and forget (or try to) that she is sitting at home dying. I e-mailed her and offered to bring by some dinner or come to keep her company. As if food and the few words I have could be of comfort. As if I can say something to erase the fact that she will never have children, that she will never be married, that she will never have the life that I take for granted when I'm stressed or tired or moody.

Through it all she's been worried about me. Worried that the loss of my baby could put me under some spell I can't awake from when it's she that will soon be sleeping. I feel helpless and wonder how one person can be so selfless and wonder what I can do to help the young people that will be so greatly impacted from the loss of her. I can't imagine. I can't begin to imagine. Would that I could make her world and mine intertwine as to keep her safe and strong and make that darkness disappear.