A Sad Day, Full of Hope

[teddy_radiator]

Sad news today from Denton, Texas. The first year I taught school in Oklahoma way back in 1985, a young man sauntered into my class shortly before school started. He was tall, trendy and cocky, and he stated, "Yeah, I just thought I'd see if I wanted to take your class this year." With all the bravado of a 24-year old, I shot back, "Yeah, presuming I want you to take my class."

He did, and T became more than a student. He became a friend. I think we might have even had secret twin crushes on one another, but I was a good girl back then and the thought of tupping a student was verboten in the extreme. But I won't say I didn't think about it.

Time moved on and so did T; he graduated and embarked on a college relationship with a girl that was terribly unsuited to and totally unworthy of him. Later, after they married, he realised this and got rid of her. I lost track of his whereabouts until I moved back to the US in 2008, and Facebook performed it's only redemptive act by reuniting us. By then, he was very happily married and had been for some time to G, and had two gorgeous kids starting high school. G's a gorgeous woman from Puerto Rico; she was a belly dancer and looked fabulously exotic in her dancing gear. She had long, thick black hair almost down to her waist. I thought she looked perfect for T, and I was spot on.

G found out she had breast cancer in 2009 or so. She had a double mastectomy and chemo, and all seemed to be well for a couple of years. About eighteen month ago, it came roaring back, and G fearlessly launched herself into another round of treatment and ferocious belief that she could beat it. Her hair was gone; her belly dancing days were behind her, but she told any and everyone who'd listen that the cancer would not win.

Today T told me the doctors have given her six months. Two to three without the chemo. she has chosen to forgo the treatment. She wants to spend her last months living, not dying. They have been together 23 years; their kids are barely out of high school. By Christmas, Glenda will no longer be with us.

T related all this to me this morning. This has just come down around the end of July, and they are doing all the right things; making and acting on bucket lists, counseling, etc. They are approaching this with anger and sadness and fear, but with immense, pig-iron courage. Their bravery and love for one another is so inspirational. When I spoke to him today, I was the one sobbing; he was the one comforting me. He and Glenda are unshakable. Last night, T took her on a motorcycle ride, one of her 'bucket list' entries. She was visibly tired and spent the entire time sitting down. Her skull-and-crossbones bandana covering her bald head. She was wearing a t-shirt that said, "I have cancer. I don't want to hear any of your crap." How can you not love that kind of attitude?

They are popular and well-liked in their town; some friends have gifted them the money to go to PR next month so that Glenda can say goodbye. People are helping them because they in turn are giving, generous people. T is resigned, but hanging in there. I love him so much, and Glenda because she too loves him and has made him so happy throughout their marriage. Their kids are trying to come to terms with life without their mom, and it's going to get worse before it gets better, but they know they are loved and they know how to love in return. T is watching them closely. He's a fine dad and a great husband.

I don't know why I'm telling you all this, but I just needed to tell someone. Life is so sweet, and friendships are precious. Even in the midst of all this grief, T and I were able to make one another laugh, and if that's the only thing decent I do in this life, I'll feel like I'm worthy of this good man's friendship.

I am holding my friends and family close today. If I seem a little clingy today, you'll know why.

Comments

[akatnamedeaster.livejournal.com]

I'm not sure what to say, other than I understand all this far too well. Cancer is the fucking devil, there's no other way to put it.

Well wishes to you and your friends. *hug*

[toblass.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[dickgloucester.livejournal.com]

*hugs you hard* I am sorry for your friend and his family. Thank you for sharing their story - their courage is inspiring.

[dreamy-dragon73.livejournal.com]

~hugs~ 

[stgulik.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry to hear about your friend. Long friendships are the most rewarding and also the most heartbreaking when you were there from the beginning and now you watch someone lose what they struggled to gain. All my love to you.

[teddyradiator.livejournal.com]

He was telling me all this while you and I were chatting this morning. I'm sure I sounded totally looney, but all I could think was how precious you are and how blessed I am to have friends like you and T. I love you so much.

[stgulik.livejournal.com]

No wonder! Tell me next time so I can give you space to talk with friends about important things. We can discuss HM any old time.

[teddyradiator.livejournal.com]

No, I needed to tell you those things. I needed to tell someone I loved them. TheHubs™ was still asleep, the house was silent, and there was no better person on earth for me to talk to but you. You were the sunshine I needed to feel.

[kellychambliss.livejournal.com]

So sorry for your friends, my dear -- and impressed by their zest for life.

[sbrande.livejournal.com]

Hugs babe. That is fine, cling away.

Loves you, Sonia

[beffeysue.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sharing their story and your feelings with us. I don't know what to say except that I admire their courage and G's decision to live life to the fullest.

I am constantly amazed at the fierce warrior that dwells unawares within each of us.

[timestep.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you shared. My best friend passed away in November from her second round of breast cancer. Sometimes I wish she had called uncle earlier and just enjoyed her last days, but her last few months were spent being sick. I know why she did, she had young kids, but...

But, she faced it all with humor and love.

Hugs to you!

[irishredlass.livejournal.com]

Cancer is the true Satan of the world. I am so sorry you and your friends are grieving, but I am glad you have each other as well.

It may sound horrible, but the best thing you can do is stay strong and remember the laughter. Laughter kills boggarts.

[hbart.livejournal.com]

Ugh, I hate cancer! The best thing you can do is be a good friend when they need you. There is nothing easy about seeing your friends hurting, even if they are putting on a brave face. Hugs.

[arwitchywoman.livejournal.com]

I'm so sorry to hear this. It is a sad day. Hugs.

[delphipsmith]

"They are approaching this with anger and sadness and fear, but with immense, pig-iron courage...bravery and love for one another..."

I cannot think of a better or more righteous combination with which to face something so difficult. My heart goes out to you, and to your friends for their courage and shining light. I post this with my icon of comfort, for what it may be worth. ::hugs::

[blueartemis07.livejournal.com]

~big hugs~

[alabastard.livejournal.com]

Cancer, a demon far too prevalent and close to my experience as well, your friends are so strong, and you can be there for them too, be the reason for many smiles.

[reynardo.livejournal.com]

Fuck cancer. Bigtime.

Sounds like, horrid as it is, they're doing it right. She's getting to choose, the kids know and are included, and yes, it sucks, and yes, it hurts, but the attitude *rocks*

Fuck cancer.

[kittylefish.livejournal.com]

*hugs* *hugs* *hugs* that is all. well, and this: *more hugs*

[sandlappershell.livejournal.com]

It's hard and it's ugly, but he and the kids will cherish these last moments even more. Every tiny thing, every major thing simply binds the heart and memories. I watched my dad fight and ultimately lose to this stuff, and no words can make it better... HOWEVER, knowing that there are people out there who care makes all the difference. Cling away, friend!