The Cycle of Life

I just returned home last night from a little road trip up to Paradise, in Northern California, where I visited with a beloved family friend who is in her last days after a long fight with Cancer.  I can't properly tell the full accurate story but it has been years that she's been having chemo off and on for cancer in her lungs, getting the thumbs up sign from her docs only to be back in chemo before long.  Just earlier this year she underwent a surgery to remove a portion of one lung which the docs felt might very well deem her Cancer free, leaving her to enjoy the rest of her life, which there should have been plenty more of.  It was probably only 3-4 months later she was told she had a tumor in her brain and various other places in her body.  To me it was like the Cancer was extra pissed after she had the surgery and thought It would show her who was boss.  I know, Cancer doesn't think.  She decided to forge on with treatment, hoping to get through radiation and chemo with enough energy left in her to make it worth while - this was a very active woman who loved hiking, bicycling, walking, traveling and kayaking as often as she could, she swam everyday at home and taught at the local gym.  When it wasn't just her adoring doggy by her side, perhaps it was one of her two grown children (friends so near and dear that we consider ourselves cousins) enjoying nature with her.  She has 3 grandchildren (4 1/2, 2 3/4 & 2) to play with as well.  After 15 radiation treatments to her brain she found out her white blood cell count was too low to move on to the chemo and at this point she decided she'd had enough.  Who can blame her?  Poor quality of life wasn't her ante for continued Cancer treatment.  She is now at home for her last days with the help of her two children and hospice.  Her son or daughter is always there with her, spending the night with her, taking care of her, enjoying their time with her, keeping her comfortable, etc.  It's pain management now.  And goodbyes.

When I told Tony I had to go up and see my "aunt" Nancy it was clear to me he didn't realize the importance of this woman in my life.  Sure he knows how close I am with her children, aka my cousins, but not their parents.  Other than my two grandmothers, I've been fortunate enough not to have gone through the pain of losing anyone else except my "uncle" Chris, Nancy's husband, who died from Cancer in a similar fashion when he was just in his early 50's.  That was a hard one for me and this one is going to be even harder.  My parents were good friends with Chris & Nancy before I was born and then when their son was born just 4 months after me it was pretty much set that we were as good as family.  My parents divorced and my mom moved all over but we made many trips to Paradise to visit our "family" there before ultimately moving there when I was in 8th grade.  To make a long story short (too late) this family might as well be my real family for all the love and memories I have for them all.  It has been shitty watching Nancy going through chemo after chemo after recovery after setback after chemo etc.  Of course not nearly as crappy as for her own kids.  They've all always put on such a strong, positive front - whether or not that was how they felt behind closed doors who can say - and really, how else can you look at it?  Gloom & doom will get you nowhere fast even if that's where you're headed. 

On the drive up to Paradise I grappled with how to conduct  myself during my visit with Nancy.  After all, I was basically going up to say goodbye.  I imagined what she might look like right now and where she would be seated in her house, then going up to her and hugging her and asking her how she is.  Well hell, you can't ask THAT question!  "Hi tiff, nice of you to visit, I'm dying thank you and how about yourself?"  It's not funny at ALL.  Same goes for her kids, my good friends, what do I say to them?  "Hi Julie, so good to see you, how are you?"  "Nice to see you too Tiff, my mom's dying and I have to watch the process every day, it sucks more than you'll ever know, thanks for asking."  Son of a bitch.  I talked about it with my mom and she helped me see it in a less morbid light.  Nancy looked good, all things considered, and I greeted her with a hug & kiss and told her it was good to see her.

It comforts me to know Nancy lived a very full life, despite it being cut unfairly short in her mid 60's. It just feels like such a fucking raw deal. As I sat by Nancy's recliner, admiring the juicy orange nail color on her toes, I wondered how she was handling all this.  As she's not needing to take any major narcotics, yet, she is still pretty with-it.  At times I thought she wasn't so much there but then she'd answer whoever's question and it was clear she was just taking a little longer to think and/or answer.  Her wedding came up as she talked with my mom, who was at the small ceremony in 1972, and Nancy asked her son to get her wedding album for her to look at.  I have no idea when the last time was she looked at it but it felt really heavy to me now and I wondered what she was thinking.  She'd lost her husband almost 20 years ago!  She'd watched him slip away at home just as she was now.  How bitter must she feel that this fucking Cancer stole her husband from her too early and is now stealing her from her children and grandchildren or has she already made her peace? I guess you have to make peace in order to save yourself the mental anguish in the end. Knowing these are your last days, not knowing how many more there are but at this point do you really hope for more than less as the pain increases, your faculties fail you and you look into your children's eyes wondering if it's the last time you will?  Maybe if you are holding out for a special someone to come visit you. That's the other awkward thing - all these great friends, family, acquaintances coming to see you - to say goodbye. To enjoy a few final moments with this person.  I suppose I'm looking at it terribly negatively.  I mean, obviously I think it's wonderful that everyone is going to see her and visa versa and that she's still with-it.  I wanted to go see her as soon as I could, I didn't want to see her as she gets worse.  I didn't want that to be my last memory of her.  Is that terrible to say?  My last memory of her husband was seeing him driving through town in his adored VW bus, the biggest smile on his face!  That was just before he died.  So I'm glad for that short visit Sunday night, seeing her smile as her grandchildren, and my Tyler, played in the living room by her.  She still looked great and I'll probably never forget those awesome soda-pop orange toenails!



But then there's the anger.  Frustration.  Bitterness.  Confusion.  Sadness.  Those are emotions I'm struggling with now.  I know we all have to die, just as sure as we are born we have an end to our time here.  When I was discharged from the hospital after having Teagan and the nurse was pushing me down the hall in a wheelchair we passed a very old woman, walking hunched over and with a cane, her daughter(?) holding her arm for added support as they made their way slowly down the hallway.  As I passed by with my treasure I couldn't help but feel a weird flood of emotions - guilt, sorrow, understanding, fear and acceptance.  Here was a brand new life passing by one that is at the end of theirs.  So many people are born, and die, everyday.  But I don't know them all, I don't love them all.  I have loved Nancy for 37 years, she has given me great support, advice and laughs and I'll always remember her infectious smile and the how she always thought things were "wonderful."  She always had such a fun way of looking at things and was such a free spirit.  I try to parent as I saw her parent because I thought & think so highly of it.  It's just impossible, I'm finding, to paint a vivid picture of her with words, to try to do her justice.  Alas, it's crystal clear in my mind and I hold fast to that.  Her caringbridge website guestbook now has over 800 messages!  800!!  She has touched so many people's lives.

When we left I gave her a hug again and another kiss and told her how great it was to see her.  She thanked me for coming and told me it was good to see me too.  Then she told me, as she looked across the living room at Tyler playing quietly with his Matchbox cars and at Teagan who was in the arms of my cousin's wife, that I have great kids and that Tyler is really neat.  My eyes well with tears now remembering that.  What a compliment!  I'll never forget that.  Last night before putting Teagan down for the night in her bassinet I just held her close and swayed gently, felt her little body breathing, kissed her warm head and cried.  My precious little girl.  Someday she and Tyler will lose me and they will live on to someday be lost by their children.  To think of my children as old people and passing away makes me so sad.  Why I sit and think about any of this when it is so far, hopefully, in the future is beyond me.  Right now and today is what we have and I'm trying to remember to enjoy every minute of it.

I want to know everything, maybe someday I will
What I want is to find my place
Breathe the air and feel the sun on my children's face
That's what I want

I go round and round just like a circle
I can see a clearer picture
When I touch the ground I come full circle
to my place and I am home, I am home

I want to let go of all disappointment that's waiting for me
What I want is to live forever
Not defined by time and space
It's a lonely place
That's what I want for me

- from the album American Life