So, here's a sad and unfamiliar situation for me:
Some friends and I have formed a little support group. Some call it "Strong Women" some (OK, me) call it "Crazy Cancer Club."
One of our members is dying.
She is leaving behind a husband and children, young children.
As we do so darn well here in the Midwest USA (or maybe it's a Great Lakes thing), the community is doing its best to tend to the needs of the family. Meals are being brought in. Cleaning is taken care of. Christmas is being tended to. Teachers have been met with.
It's so incredibly sad. Heartbreakingly so.
During Cancer Club meetings, we've talked about some really intimate stuff. It's one time we can laugh about the indignities we've experienced. Some of them can be quite amusing. Some, out right funny--much of that has to do with chemo brain; some, in a warped kind of way--much of that has to do with chemo brain, or did I already say that? It's one time we can talk about how precious it is to be able to poop when you need to. We can laugh about losing hair. We can express frustration about fearing that every twinge is a recurrence. It's one time where "it is what it is" can really be what it is because we all have gone through it or may confront it. Some of us have "curable" cancers. Some might be on chemo off and on for life. But this is the first time one of us has died.
And I just don't know what to do.
My love language, apparently, is food.
Another member of the club and I took dinner to the family last week. And I could not stop making food. I made a frozen meal for some later date. I made two soups. I made Magic Mineral Broth. I could have kept going.
I understand my friend, who isn't seeing people these days, enjoyed the Magic Mineral Broth.
I'm not a close friend. We've shared intimate moments. But we've never otherwise socialized.
I understand my friend is in a lot of pain.
I suppose I fear that I soon will end up similarly.
But meanwhile, I feel very awkward. At a loss for words.
I know this journey, this transition, is one that is very individual and one that we all must undertake.
Yet, I wish I knew what I could do to make this easier for my friend and her family. I feel so helpless.
And so sad.
So very, very sad.