Day 94...and Farewell to one of our own...

It is with great sadness that I report here the passing of one of our own, a fellow cancer warrior, Betsy. Though we only knew Betsy a short while, her spirit and her strength have inspired us all, and it weighs on all of our hearts that she is no longer in the world. I cannot imagine her parents' suffering. You know it's coming, you can feel it's drawing close, but I can only imagine that nothing can prepare you for that final moment, when your child draws his/her last breath. It is unnatural. It is unimaginable. It is unconscionable, and yet, it happens every day. It could have been any one of us.


I am saddened by Betsy's passing, but I am glad that her suffering has ended, and my prayers go out to her family that they may find strength to get through this difficult time and beyond. I don't think it ever gets any easier. I think you just find a way to survive. You take comfort where you can.

I had a perfect day with my daughter and mother, despite Sarah's little broken wing and the pain that ensues every time I move her or hold her in the wrong way. We shopped, enacted a covert, tag-team operation to purchase Lalaloopsy items for Christmas without Sarah noticing, and then came home to play in the yard a little, until Sarah fell and scraped her knees. I gave her a bath, dressed her, and we made popcorn and watched the Lorax, then had a little chat and did some couch-dancing to the kitschy 60's/70's tune that was playing over the DVD menu. We did meds, I made her bed, she sealed her new Happy Napper (she is ever so happy. She has been wanting one of those things for years) and laid down on it to go to sleep. A good day, overall.

Here I am, after a wonderful day of shopping with my mom and daughter, and then playing in the yard with Sarah's sand and water table, newly filled with pink sand (That's right. You read correctly. PINK sand, thanks, Crayola! You made my daughter's millenium! And only $7 for a 20 lb. bag at Walmart? Yes, please!) rushing through Sarah's bedtime story because I'm tired and I have a million things left to do to prepare for a very busy day tomorrow. Cancer gives you enough perspective to realize that life is short and you should enjoy every moment, but even less time to enjoy than everyone else has, because there is so much more to deal with!

Then, Betsy crossed my mind. I am rushing through this moment with my daughter, and somewhere, Betsy's family is wishing they had a moment like this, just one more time. And it could have been me, it could still be me, wishing that I had slowed down, done all the voices, surreptitiously stolen glances at my daughter to catch her reactions, engrave it all into my memory. And I do this, on occasion, but I should be doing it always, even when I'm tired. Because you never know which story will be the last one.

RIP Betsy...we love you!