I just received an email from a friend, Ann, who I have known for over 20 years. After a very long battle her sister, whom I have never met, has died. The humor, grace and dignity that Ann conveyed about her sister through this, the ability of Ann to find joy in caretaking her dying sister is awe inspiring.
Reading the email, obit and Ann's note has inspired some tears, something resembling real crying for the first time in I don't know how long. I realize that many many women get breast cancer without any major complications but none of them are my mother. It's not fair.
For those who have the nerve to write me things like:
But it *feels to me* that you are losing sight of something very important -- your mom wants to live.
And:
a whole of lot women who get breast cancer re-evaluate their lives, and make major decisions according to their re-evaluations. .... women who say they are grateful for having gone through this, because they have finally understood what is important in their lives *for them.*
Quite frankly, they can kiss my ass. I know all this. This is hardly my first exposure to something like this, nor my mother's. We have both lived quite full lives with many things that have given us pause to reevaluate things. It took all my self control this morning not to write an email back to this person which would have essentially said "BITE ME!" among other less than gracious phrases. I am the one who sat in her therapy session where she realized that the concept of being an invalid had lost it's appeal. A long time ago she had stopped considering suicide on a daily basis as a viable option. Of course she wants to live. It's been eons since she made anything like an attempt not to be here. Sunny is an incredibly brave woman, and she was one long before breast cancer.
Okay. I think I'm done. For now.
1 comment:
You want me to go kick her ass? I'll do it. You know I will.
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