It started last night with a scratchy throat, a cough and a few sneezes. Today, it’s a full blown headache, cough, body ache parade.
I wish I could say that it feels good to just have a normal virus; something that isn’t caused by some horrible chemical infusion. And I should be grateful that I didn’t get any sort of flu or cold all through the winter of my treatment and a compromised immune system. And of course, it’s one thing when you’re suppose to be a BIG C warrior, and quite another when you just feel like a crappy, bitchy child who is angry that I’ve gotten a cold just days before going on the vacation with my dog. Wah wah wah.
And then I remember.
There’s been a tragedy in our town, and among my circle of friends and family. And having a cold, or cancer for that matter, doesn’t seem very important. My friend, Ledell Waterman Mulvaney and her beautiful daughter Katherine, were killed in a terrible car accident on Saturday. Her husband, Don, remains in serious condition in a medically-induced coma. Their son, Devan and his girlfriend, Lucy, are standing vigil with other loved ones. It was shocking news on Sunday when we found out. Now, the sadness comes and goes. You forget for a little while and you complain about having a cold. Or that’s it’s too hot out. Or that the ice machine is the refrigerator is busted. Or all the normal things that seem so important at the moment. It’s normal. We’re human. For some reason, that feels like a very small blessing, we get to go back to our lives for awhile. It’s just too hard to comprehend. It’s just too hard to feel it for too long. It’s just too impossible to understand how people deal with such hardship in their lives. And then we make ourselves remember.
We remember their faces, and voices and all the lovely memories.
And then we remember. We remember all the people WE loved and lost, and all the people we still have here, right now, to love. And we promise ourselves, once again, that we will tell all of them just how much we love them and not take anything or anyone for granted.
And then we have to reach for the Robitussin, or take the dog out, or figure out what to eat for dinner. Because we are really quite helpless to do much else but continue to live our lives – with just that much more awareness and love.
Just know I am thinking of you, and remembering you.
There is one small thing we can do, and that is to give what/and if we can to lighten the burden of Devan and Lucy, and Don . Here’s the link to the fundraiser.