Thursday, May 8, 2008
Somewhere over the rainbow...
I hate hospitals. I know I've said it before, but each visit seems to only get worse. On top of this, I walked in with greater dread and tears in my eyes today. I found myself rubbing a huge glob of the free hand sanitizer on my hands the entire elevator ride.
My beautiful friend, my sister from another mother, is dying. The doctors came back and said yesterday that the cancer is metastatic and that they will manage her pain and illnesses in an effort to keep her comfortable. Two weeks at best, two months tops.
I've said these words five times today, and it's still not getting better.
What. The. Fuck.
I'm angry that the hands I held will no longer be able to play with her dog.
I'm angry that she won't be able to go shoe shopping and comment on the smells of the store.
I'm angry that she won't be able to go for her long hikes, shop at Whole Foods, bake giant chocolate chip cookies, or try new wines.
I'm angry that I won't have her around to do all the sisterly things she's ever done.
I'm angry that the world is losing a great spirit, compassionate heart, and funny soul.
I'm scared that she won't be here when I get back from visiting Mom.
I'm scared to say goodbye to her, I don't know that I'll have the words to tell her what a wonderful friend she is.
My dearest Lisa Marie -
I am a better person because of your friendship. Your endless patience, curiosity and compassion has taught me that there is always a light in the storm, laughter in the heart ache, goodness in everyone, adventures to be had, and so much more.
My beautiful sister -
You've held my hand when my heart was breaking, reminding me that it would all pass. You've listened and shared at our sushi talks and martini laughs, reminding me that great friends are hard to find. I've valued your honesty and support more that I can express.
My beloved friend -
You are stronger than all of us, fighting and laughing your way through this so much that the rest of us can't help but smile. There are too few people who can pull off a feather boa and funny socks in a hospital gown.
I need to get these words out now, because I don't think I'll be able to remember them all tomorrow. Will I say the things I need to say?
And for the record, this is a really fucked up deal. Yes, yes, reason for everything, blah blah. Still fucked.