I'm not gonna mince words. I have three friends who are seriously ill. One has cancer and is under hospice care; today is what will no doubt be his last birthday. His partner was one of the first close girlfriends I made when I moved here--we were both writing books about our respective divorces. I was miserable, but by then she was enjoying a beautiful relationship with the love of her life, who she is now about to lose. My heart aches for her.
Though I know worrying does no good, that kind of rationalization does
not turn off my brain. I worry. I'm sad. I'm angry. I want to throw
something. I want to kill anyone who says stupid fucking things like,
"God has a plan."
Anger has its place. I actually took some comfort in my own words from this "I Hate Cancer" post, which I wrote days before my beloved Beautiful Aunt Joyce died of breast cancer back in 2009. Okay, so I'm not the most mature person you'll ever meet, but it's a brilliant rant if I do say so myself.
The second person is the spouse of the most long-term friend I have, since the summer of 1963. Donna's husband was
recently diagnosed with ALS, commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease. I don't have to tell
you what that's all about. Oh, and if anyone says a stupid fucking
"God never gives you more than you can handle," I will ask, "Is
that why Donna doesn't have cellulite? Because God thought she can
handle her brother's death, her husband's ALS, and a bunch of other
issues she's had to deal with, but cellulite... no, that would just put
her over the top. I mean, what kind of God would give her cellulite?"
(Rolling my eyes.)
The other friend... it looks like he just needs a liver and kidney transplant. Yeah, that's all. Chuck and I have been friends for over 40 years, since we played kickball in the street on Lincoln Avenue. He's one of my best friends on earth, and so is his wife. If anything happens to Chuck, I will lose my shit. And I mean fucking lose it. Ten times a day I think of getting in my car and driving back to Albany and staying there until I know he'll be okay.
On top of all that, I can't stop thinking about my blogging buddy Barbara who has had the worst time, and for so long, dealing with her heroin-addicted son. Shit is always hitting the fan with that kid and I'm like, how much can this poor woman take? I've never met Barbara in real life, but that will change soon. I will meet her and I will give her a long overdue hug in person.
Barbara is forever expressing her thanks to her readers, and I understand why. Blogging is a shitload of work, but I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to know that there are people out there who truly care about you. I know I go through stages where I think I'm a total fuck up, and then out of nowhere I'll get a thoughtful comment or email Facebook message and it makes my day.
So I'm mental lately. I love my friends so much and I can't bear that they have to go through such pain and suffering. And like Barbara, I am so grateful to be a part of the blogging community. Some of you I know personally, having had the pleasure of meeting you. Some I have corresponded with. But I have no idea who most of you are. I only know that I love you all.
Stay healthy, will you? And send some loving thoughts to everyone.