Mourning

I have lost a good friend today, and I'm having a lot of different emotions.

Guilt - I hadn't seen her very often, and not since before the holidays. I found out a few weeks ago that she had been diagnosed with lymphoma. I was going to call, see if I could do anything, but knew she would be surrounded by kids and family. I decided to wait until she came home. She never made it home. Her spleen was removed on Monday, they say it was the size of a football. She went back into surgery in the middle of the night to stop some internal bleeding. Apparently, she went into cardiac arrest during the surgery. Long story short, she never really woke up. Thursday afternoon, her family made the difficult and heartbreaking decision to take her off the ventilator. She passed peacefully. I know how hard that decision is - I've had to do it myself.

Sadness - she was a good friend, and we're all going to miss her alot. We were the same age, and back in 1994 we started working at the same place at almost the same time. She came and went a couple of times, but we kept in touch in the meantime.

Fear - it can happen to anyone, at any time. We're both 52. My own mother died at age 46, also of cancer. It is predominant in her side of the family. I sometimes feel it is a given. I just don't know when, or which form it will take.

Grateful - for her. She didn't have to go through months, or years of treatment and suffering. Sometimes I think the treatment is worse than the disease. I have seen it firsthand, too many times. The pain, fear, and indignity can be horrible.

Empathy - for her husband and family. She has only been married to this man for a few years. She had lost her previous husband to a terrible cancer. Her kids have already been through a lot. They're young, and all have young children. It's hard to lose your grandparents at so young an age.

I'm waiting to hear about arrangements. I had knit her a pair of handmade socks, and never got to give them to her. I think I will take them along, and either give them to her daughters, or to another close friend, who went through this with her.

And so to bed. I can think about this more tomorrow.