A beautiful tribute to a dying friend; to the passage of time, the experiences that come, some wonderful, some not so wonderful; and the endless dance of life and death and those glorious moments in-between.
I am so sorry for you and your friend and his family.
I'm shattered by this post. It's beautifully written and I thank you for putting into words what I struggled to figure out.
In April 2022, my brother made that phone call to me. The one where he wanted to prepare me, comfort me about the shift in his 3+ years cancer journey. I so wanted it to be the other way - me taking care of him. I just couldn't, not then.
I was able to do that later and I'm grateful we had some patio days before he died.
Grief comes and goes, like it can. Thanks for putting language and understanding around those last weeks and days.
I hope you get to spend patio time with your friend soon.
So sorry about your friend. I especially relate to his care of others. A dear family member received an essentially terminal diagnosis but he joined a clinical trial to give his wife a chance at hope.. It was not easy as the treatment turned his body against him. He continued throughout to be his humorous caring self and protector of others. I miss him so.
I am so sorry for what your friend is going through and for the pain family and friends are going through too. No matter what, “the ten” will always be the ten. As long as love and memories remain, nothing will change that.
Back in the day when AIDS was a death sentence, my dearest friend found out he had AIDS. He was way too young, in his thirties, but his serenity in dealing with his impending death was inspiring to me. I don't know where he got that strength, but I hope to emulate it someday. He took care of everyone around him, as you describe. I will always be grateful for his grace.
The "battling cancer" metaphor implies that a win is possible - if I battle hard enough, if I suffer enough, I can win the battle. A lot of those "battles" can't be "won" no matter how hard the patient fights. That's why I don't like the metaphor - because saying "the patient lost her battle with cancer" carries an implication that she might have been able to win it.
I survived a cancer diagnosis because I was lucky to get an early diagnosis of a cancer that's easily cured by surgery and chemo. My mom didn't survive a cancer diagnosis because she had a late diagnosis of a cancer that still mostly kills people. Neither of us had much control over whether we lived or died. When family and friends told me that they were sorry my mom lost her battle with cancer, I said "it wasn't a battle - there's nothing she could have done to change the outcome."
Sounds like your friend may be in that category, and I am sorry ... for your loss, for his losses. Big hug to you both.
One friend who died called it his cancer journey. Another called it her dance (because dancing is finite - the music ends and you stop dancing). I just miss them.
Mike thank you for the dance. As I get older (older than you) we are losing more of our always friends. I am glad that I have had time to spend with them.
Uncanny how your postings align with my life. I am living that shift in cancer diagnoses, and that shift to concern for others. Still have great reason to hope for the best, yet I was not prepared for the exquisite pain of sharing this latest news with my family and friends.. I am hurting them. And I feel emotionally undone. This heartbreaking pain is far beyond any fear I have for myself. We're struggling to allow each other the space to alternate between fighting spirit and grief. I'm cherishing those quiet moments between oscillating cycles when we can just be, together, as companions in the quiet dark. On the other side of Nothing, these moments are Everything.
I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes trying to figure out what to say. It’s more than words though, isn’t it? I’m sorry to hear of your illness and the pain of bearing it among people you love and know are hurting. I am glad to hear of your moments of serenity though. They are diamonds, aren’t they? Precious little stones you find in the loose rock of a landslide and then hold in your hand. I think they are among life’s most beautiful little gemstones.
Strangely, diamonds were in a beautiful dream I had just the other night. A dream that is providing me with great strength and inspiration. Please keep writing. You are channeling an extraordinary and powerful force that is both revealing and healing for the human soul. I look forward to your every revelation.
I’m sorry to hear about your friend. I so appreciate the love you have for your friend.
A beautiful tribute to a dying friend; to the passage of time, the experiences that come, some wonderful, some not so wonderful; and the endless dance of life and death and those glorious moments in-between.
A pleasure to read. Thank you for that.
I am so sorry for you and your friend and his family.
I'm shattered by this post. It's beautifully written and I thank you for putting into words what I struggled to figure out.
In April 2022, my brother made that phone call to me. The one where he wanted to prepare me, comfort me about the shift in his 3+ years cancer journey. I so wanted it to be the other way - me taking care of him. I just couldn't, not then.
I was able to do that later and I'm grateful we had some patio days before he died.
Grief comes and goes, like it can. Thanks for putting language and understanding around those last weeks and days.
I hope you get to spend patio time with your friend soon.
This piece is Unbelievable. You and your friend are in my thoughts. Thank you for this.
So sorry about your friend. I especially relate to his care of others. A dear family member received an essentially terminal diagnosis but he joined a clinical trial to give his wife a chance at hope.. It was not easy as the treatment turned his body against him. He continued throughout to be his humorous caring self and protector of others. I miss him so.
So sorry for your friend. And for you too. I know the feeling too well.
I've lost a friend in my childhood, I've lost a friend in my teens. And I have lost a few more people all through the years.
Losing people my age is not new to me. One might think you get used to it. You don't. And you're never ready. 😔
❤️
I am so sorry for what your friend is going through and for the pain family and friends are going through too. No matter what, “the ten” will always be the ten. As long as love and memories remain, nothing will change that.
A beautiful synopsis of those of us left dancing still.
Dude. I'm so sorry. Remember that we are all here for you and that you can lean on us for support anytime. Keep us posted about your friend.
I just wanted to offer you my sympathy.
Back in the day when AIDS was a death sentence, my dearest friend found out he had AIDS. He was way too young, in his thirties, but his serenity in dealing with his impending death was inspiring to me. I don't know where he got that strength, but I hope to emulate it someday. He took care of everyone around him, as you describe. I will always be grateful for his grace.
The "battling cancer" metaphor implies that a win is possible - if I battle hard enough, if I suffer enough, I can win the battle. A lot of those "battles" can't be "won" no matter how hard the patient fights. That's why I don't like the metaphor - because saying "the patient lost her battle with cancer" carries an implication that she might have been able to win it.
I survived a cancer diagnosis because I was lucky to get an early diagnosis of a cancer that's easily cured by surgery and chemo. My mom didn't survive a cancer diagnosis because she had a late diagnosis of a cancer that still mostly kills people. Neither of us had much control over whether we lived or died. When family and friends told me that they were sorry my mom lost her battle with cancer, I said "it wasn't a battle - there's nothing she could have done to change the outcome."
Sounds like your friend may be in that category, and I am sorry ... for your loss, for his losses. Big hug to you both.
I agree. I don’t like that phrasing either. I don’t know if there is any short phrase which is 100% satisfactory though.
One friend who died called it his cancer journey. Another called it her dance (because dancing is finite - the music ends and you stop dancing). I just miss them.
Mike thank you for the dance. As I get older (older than you) we are losing more of our always friends. I am glad that I have had time to spend with them.
This is such a beautiful and accurate piece. Thank you.
Uncanny how your postings align with my life. I am living that shift in cancer diagnoses, and that shift to concern for others. Still have great reason to hope for the best, yet I was not prepared for the exquisite pain of sharing this latest news with my family and friends.. I am hurting them. And I feel emotionally undone. This heartbreaking pain is far beyond any fear I have for myself. We're struggling to allow each other the space to alternate between fighting spirit and grief. I'm cherishing those quiet moments between oscillating cycles when we can just be, together, as companions in the quiet dark. On the other side of Nothing, these moments are Everything.
I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes trying to figure out what to say. It’s more than words though, isn’t it? I’m sorry to hear of your illness and the pain of bearing it among people you love and know are hurting. I am glad to hear of your moments of serenity though. They are diamonds, aren’t they? Precious little stones you find in the loose rock of a landslide and then hold in your hand. I think they are among life’s most beautiful little gemstones.
Strangely, diamonds were in a beautiful dream I had just the other night. A dream that is providing me with great strength and inspiration. Please keep writing. You are channeling an extraordinary and powerful force that is both revealing and healing for the human soul. I look forward to your every revelation.