Yes, cancer sucks!

Let me start by stating the obvious - cancer sucks!  A few weeks ago I lost another friend to cancer.  Not the first person I cared about that this disease took and probably not the last.  Like most things, once something has affected you personally, you see it around you everywhere.  Remember ladies, when you were pregnant and suddenly you were surrounded by pregnant women - they were everywhere.  Now it seems cancer is everywhere.  Parents who have lost their children are everywhere now too - I see them around every corner.

When I heard the news that my friend Angie had lost her battle with cancer I was understandable upset.  Someone, meaning well, said "she's in heaven now and at least she's not hurting anymore."  I didn't think about my reaction, I just said what came to mind, "that doesn't help" and I walked away.  Later, the two of us had a chance to have a conversation about this - she was genuinely perplexed as to why those words wouldn't help.  Why those words wouldn't be a soothing balm and magically make everything better.  I'll tell you what I told her - they bring some comfort; knowing that I will see my friend again (and Ian) but it doesn't diminish the pain.  And there is such a long period of time to live through between now and then.  There are decades to go through full of missing them, thinking about them - those words don't take all that away.

It's funny...right after Ian died people would say things like that and I would nod my head and agree - Yes, I'll see him again....Yes, he's not in pain anymore but I was numb and the pain hadn't set in yet.  It wasn't until later that I realized how little those words really helped.  I can be thankful that I'll see Ian again and that he's in a much better place than here with us but they still don't diminish the pain of separation.  Only time does that.  Time doesn't make it 'better' but it makes it bearable, it makes it do-able.  Then, of course, there's always the 'sneak grief' attack that surprises you.  You start to think you're doing better, you're not crying every day anymore, it's safe to wear mascara again, you begin to feel proud of yourself for getting through the day without ruining your makeup, then it hits.  Some random thought, some memory and I look at Ian's picture and think, "how could one of my children be dead?"  How is that possible, but it is.  And I put the mascara away again for a little while. You reach a point where you realize, "this is my life now".  Nothing is going to change the fact that Ian is gone, I just have to learn to live with it and slowly, I am doing that.