I know you’ve heard about Tracy’s cancer. It has hit all of us hard. She and I started at Sam together 20 years ago. And now, who knows what the future holds for her, or for any of us.
So, my recommendation to you is to find people to laugh with. Tell some of your outlandish jokes. People love you when you’re happy! There is still reason to laugh, even at the little insignificant things! Go to funny movies. Read funny books. DO something to enjoy the beauty and pleasure around you. We have such little time left on earth.
Yes, several of us have been going down to Tracy’s every few days, to take her to her doctor’s appointments and to have lunch with her and her mother. We were all with her when she was first told about the “illumination” on the x-ray. I typed up the notes from her doctor and Nancy felt certain that it was not good, although the doc didn’t say so at the time. Still holding out hope then.
But after the Lumbar Puncture, not so much. She’d been told that if she didn’t hear until the end of July that she was free of the cancer. She heard within four days that it was cancer. We are all distraught and not sure what to do. How do you face six more months to live? But, as Jack said, we are all terminal, we just don’t know when.
You knew, I think, that Jack’s first wife had thyroid cancer and lived with it for a year, knowing there was nothing that could be done. She was a nurse, who knew full well what was in store for her. She finally shot herself and left Jack with the three kids – hers, not his–to raise. He did it, but he knows what it is like to get the negative cancer results. We can mourn, but there is nothing to do but accept and enjoy the time we have left. Not comforting, but we have never been whiners!
Wow. I do not know who Tracy is, though if she is special to you in your life, she must be something! 🙂 I had no idea about Jack’s first wife either… Cancer certainly does not discriminate, and I agree with Jack, “we are all terminal, we just don’t know when”.
I can see I’m going to enjoy your site very much. You already know I love your writing!
Thanks – she was one of my colleagues from the history department, only 54 years old and got spinal and brain cancer.
This is not to be cold. It is to live the belief that life is not about a promise of a fair number of future days, but today and today and today. Don’t grieve for the loss of what we imagined stretched out indefinitely. Live today as well as possible.
We sure miss you, A
LOT!