It’s been about a year since Megan died.
The world is not a better place without her.
I found myself reading Climbing Maya the other day, a book that uses Megan as kind of an emotional center and, in which, I tell about her memorial service. I couldn’t read that without starting to cry again. This from a woman who thought very little of me – go figure. Megan struggled against leukemia for over half a decade and that was a very long time. I can’t help but feel though, in my heart, in the hearts of all who knew her, that she left too soon.
Megan, we miss you.
But this blog is not about her. Fooled ya.
Actually, I can’t help but think about Megan because it’s a year later and I’m dealing with more people being diagnosed with cancer. As this week started, my friend Becky, who I knew at Linksys, had to go in for an emergency hysterectomy after she was diagnosed. And that wasn’t the worst of it. Blanche, who is easily the most wonderful (step)mother a person could ever have, went in for a biopsy just yesterday.
I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do if she’s sick. I can imagine my mom and dad passing away; I can visualize that loss. But Blanche’s death is an inky, black emptiness I can’t even begin to comprehend.
What is it with these people? I mean, seriously, how rude are they!?
Okay, not seriously. But I would really like to know what’s going on with all the people in my life getting diagnosed. Is it an age thing? I know that, as I get older, more people I know will die, but – geez – can’t they do it through extreme old age?
I just hope no one else gets diagnosed. Be original, folks! Try cholera! (That’s the new, official slogan for One Path… for this week, at least.)