It’s been a busy week. It’s been a quiet week, and it’s been a very sad week.
Busy because I have been working hard on my copy edits for MASTER OF CRAVING, quiet because for the most part the family has left me alone to work, and very sad because a friend of mine lost her husband Tuesday to cancer. A relatively short battle, but a hard fought one. He was 51, and up until his diagnosis after a routine check this time last year, he was healthy as any man could hope to be. He was a good, quiet, gentle man. He leaves behind four children all under the age of 16 and his childhood sweetheart and wife of 25 years.
I am sad for my friend, sad for the children, and just, sad. There is no negotiating death. It’s so final. There is nothing we can do to prevent it. It comes sooner or later. I’m not afraid of dying. But I’m afraid of losing my loved ones closets to me. I’m afraid of the soul-shattering grief my friend is experiencing right now. I’m afraid of waking up to find my life mate gone-forever. How do you carry on when a vital part of you is gone? How do you get out of bed each morning and embrace the life you still live? I suppose, as with everything, time is the answer. When my friend broke down the other day, and apologized I almost smacked her! I told her to let it out as long and as loud as she needed to, that I wasn’t going anywhere. When after awhile she dried her tears and looked at me, my heart just stopped. I felt her pain, it radiated with such a force, I saw it, smelled it, yet I could not even comprehend understanding the depth of her loss. It scares me. I felt, completely and utterly useless, and I almost smiled. Cause there I was making it about me! And it so isn’t. I realized after I left, my value to my friend was just being there for her. In the end, it’s all any of us can do.
I came home emotionally drained, kissed my husband on the cheek, told him I loved him, hugged my son, then went upstairs and cried. I slept most of last night away, and this morning, my first thoughts when I woke were of my friend, and my heart ached again because I knew she was not waking up with her husband beside her.
In someone else’s grief, my love and appreciation for my family has been reaffirmed, and while we always tell each other, every day we love each other, and we are a very huggy-kissy family, for me, I will not only continue to tell my family how important they are to me, but will show it in small intimate ways. Because, maybe tomorrow, I won’t have the chance.
My heartfelt condolences go out to those of you who have loved and lost someone near and dear to you.