A Visit

I sit across from my dying friend.  At least, I think she might be dying.  That’s what the doctors and diagnoses predict. Yet, she looks very alive to me. She is fighting hard against a nearly invisible foe and continues to defy the statistics. Despite the chipmunk cheeks from prednisone and lack of hair,  I see bright blue eyes which still twinkle when she smiles.  She lights up as visitors stop by and in typical fashion she wants all the news of their family and kids. She has lost a tremendous amount of weight off a slim figure to begin with.  Through all of this, I still see and feel her determined spirit, her love of adventure, and her moment by moment gratitude. 

It is a beautiful and hard thing to sit with her. Only 12 short months ago we were travelling on the same journey to becoming “empty nesters,” visiting our kids, planning our own adventures, and stepping into the next chapter of life.   Now her path looks much more uncertain and is filled with doctor appointments, alternative treatments, special diets and many a quiet hour sitting on her front porch. 

I believe our time together is a gift for both of us.  I arrive bringing flowers or tea or family stories to share.  She dishes out both questions and gratitude in endless supply. 

After months of treatment, her thoughts and words sometimes misfire.  I can’t imagine what it’s like to have thoughts trapped inside my mind and not be able to line up the words and grammar to get them out properly.  Over time I have come to understand this new language of hers.  “He” and “she” get transposed, “they and you” are interchangeable. Yet her questions and worries are clear.  Why? How? I never thought this would happen to me. To us.  What about my son going off to college? What about my daughter and her serious boyfriend?  So much still for this mother to tend to. 

I hold her hand, look her straight in the eye and offer up the only truth I know.  “I don’t have these answers. I don’t even have AN answer.  I know God is with you and He will be with your family. And I look forward to the day when we see God face to face and trust there will be understanding.” 

We hold each other's hands tightly and I begin to pray.  I ask for peace, deep peace. The peace that only He can give in a time such as this. For both of us. 

We visit a while longer.  I offer up a short shoulder and head massage. She pours out more love and gratitude. Soon her daughter comes as it's time for the next treatment.  

So often it is hard to say goodbye. No matter how many visits there never quite seems to be enough time. As happens in these situations, I go thinking I am bringing love and support to her. Yet she is the one to bring love and gratitude to me.  A special time, this visit with my friend.