They say that which does not kill us only makes us stronger. Remind me to look that one up because it’s a good one and too many different people are given credit for saying it. It’s my quote of the day, of the week, of the month, of the season. Ever since September I have been feeling the tragedies of others tenfold. Nothing has happened to me per se. I’ve dodged small things like breast lumps and divorce-inducing tirades but I’m relatively unscathed. Relatively. Recent developments have made me question friendship and family ways. Neither can be fully expressed here so I feel as if I’m wasting time by mentioning it at all. I can skirt the issue(s) and talk about fear, though.
Someone very close to me has a brain tumor. The frontal lobe, dangerous kind. Oddly enough, here’s my fear. He never had kids. He is, for all intents and purposes, a single man. Who will take care of him at barely 60 years of age? Who will watch for slurred speech, hand tremors, and glossy vision? Gone are all the plans for Texas. Gone are the wild motorcycle rides down the Pacific Highway. Jack Kerouac has left the spirit. There will be no raging against the light when one is blind to begin with.
My husband thinks I’ve gone manic. He asked me about the black cloud today and all I could say was, “I miss my friend.” What? He has no idea what I meant and neither do I. Am I dreaming of a zip code outside my own again? The only thing I am really sure of at this stage of the game is I want to talk to someone. Kisa asked about insurance and would that be covered? I said I thought so but wasn’t sure for how long, literally and technically. Being my own worst enemy I need someone other than myself right now.
It’s Christmas and I refrained from sending some cards. Cutting losses isn’t as painful as I thought it would be. Maybe it’s because I’m numb to it all. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. Still I move on. Maybe by the end of 2010 I’ll be the strongest woman alive.