Tears

Wet crystal

glistens

a liquid trail

on creamy skin.

Tight fist

surrounds

aching, pulsing,

beating

heart.

Bleeding

love and grief

in tangible form.

One more drop

and another

and more.

Maybe

one day

to heal.

Tonight I’m grieving…just a little bit.  I hate cancer.  I really do.  Especially when it comes flying out of nowhere like some mysterious stranger come to take the people I love away with barely a warning.  I know.  I’m not telling anyone anything new.  I’m not alone in feeling the way I do.

But tonight I write with an overwhelming sense of helplessness.  Unable to help my friends and family who are suffering.  Only able to offer trite words of comfort.  And prayer.  And to me, prayer is important.  That belief in a higher power is what gets me through most of the shit that life throws at us.

A couple years ago two of my girl friends were diagnosed with breast cancer.  They are both survivors.  One was fortunate enough not to lose a breast, but due to other complications, had to have a complete hysterectomy.  She hadn’t any children yet.  Now she never will.  The other one had to have a mastectomy.  Then they found something in her other breast.  She lost that one, too.  And now she has other issues and recently went through one of six surgeries she’s going to need.  But they’re tough women.  Fighters!

Then last week, a girlfriend of mine who’d just put her husband in assisted living after he didn’t fully recover from open heart surgery and was onset with dementia made a post on facebook.  She’d been having some issues.  Long story short, she posted on Facebook to please say some prayers because they’d found a tumor in her lung.  They suspected lung cancer.  When they went in to remove the tumor, they found it was resting on her aorta…not so easy now.  They were able to remove part of it, but during the procedure they noticed something on her hip.  I was in her room visiting with her when they told her that it appeared the source had been bone cancer in her hip and that it had spread across her body to her lung.  She’s a fighter, though her chances aren’t very good.  She’s going through chemo and radiation therapy simultaenously.

Forward to the last couple of days.  We got a call.  Our favorite uncle on my husband’s side had been having back pain.  Back in May he’d had a CT done and been given a clean bill of health.  This week, it’s cancer.  And it’s all over his body.  It’s been so aggressive that it doesn’t look like there is a way to fight it.  Hospice has already been mentioned and they haven’t even got the results of the biopsy to tell us what kind of cancer it is.  Scary.

So…my heart hurts.  And today I need to give reign to my feelings of heartache and sorrow and anger.  That way tomorrow I can be the loving, supportive friend and family member I need to be.

God promises he’ll never test us beyond what we can bear.  And I believe him.  But there are days that it feels awful close.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Tears

  1. oliviaobryon says:

    My heart hurts with yours, I know how it feels. That’s the really shitty thing about cancer, I feel like most of us know. Even reading the Lemonade Club to my students, a book about cancer right after my grandmother was diagnosed last year, left me and a room full of 10 year olds in tears, (because we all knew and shared each other’s pain). Makes me teary just thinking about how real cancer is to so many people. Hope your heart feels better soon!

  2. Mae Clair says:

    I understand your feelings of helpliness in the face of this awful disease. It has claimed the lives of several people very close to me. I’ve also needed to be that supportive friend to others who were battling it and often felt bewildered not knowing how to help. I can’t imagine the feeling of helpliness they had to be experiencing.

    It’s a wretched disease. We’ve prolonged the lives of those afflicted with it but we still can’t cure it. Maybe one day. Like you, I look to God for support. Without the safety net of faith, I’m not sure how I’d ever face tragedies like cancer.

  3. amadiex says:

    I hate cancer. I know your pain, your anger, your grief and your helplessness. It is in times like these that you hold on to everything and anything. It is hard to be that person who is holding the hand not knowing what to say or do. But let me tell you, your presence, your strength, and your love is very much their lifeline. Knowing that you are there is the greatest gift you can give. It seems so simple, but when faced with this horrible situation it is the lifeline that brings the soul what it needs to fight and to have peace. My thoughts and my love are with you and your family/friend as you go through this.

    • Kitt Crescendo says:

      Amen. Please feel free to share. If you know someone who would appreciate the message, feel free to click the email button at the bottom of the post to send it by email. If you’d like to share through Facebook, just tap the Facebook button. 🙂

Don't Be Shy, Reply!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s