Wednesday, December 23, 2009
what to do now?
one of my dearest friends called to say the little boy i've know since he was six has had a recurrence of colon cancer, the one he fought two years ago at the age of 26. c showed bravery unheard of, certainly of a magnitude i have never witnessed, as he endured chemo, radiation, surgery and extra chemo to boost his chances of survival. c never once complained. he married the girl who caught his eye his first day at college, and married her the month he finished his last chemo. he inhabits an old soul, did before this damnably unfair illness intruded on his life. in its aftermath, he expended mammoth intellectual energy and achieved enormous accomplishment in his work, gaining recognition and promotion entirely earned. he is not my child, but my heart aches today in a way i had no idea it could for another's. it is the terror of parents, our deepest recognition, the unspoken truth that we would throw ourselves under a train to save our children. instead, we will stand up, stand in, let them know they can trust us to be strong for them. oh god. and we weep alone.