My good friend Mary G.

My friend Mary G. has been diagnosed with cancer in her breast bone. She just had a procedure to drain her lung to make her more comfortable. When I was visiting her in Victoria last August, she was wheezy, tired and weak. Her chest had been hurting for months and she thought it was pulled muscles. I felt something more serious was going on but didn't want to say that to her. Now I second guess myself about having not said anything. Should I have said something? What would that have been? So many times I don't say things and regret it. I think I regret more the things I don't say than the things I wish I hadn't said. I have a swamp of unsaid stuff swashing around in my gut. Like the other day, when my coworker was driving 95 to get us back to the airport in Phoenix. I knew how much she wanted to not miss the plane and I knew we would if I drove at a mere 80, so I just sat there debating with myself the whole way if I should ask her to slow down. I didn't say anything but felt scared. We made the flight.

Mary has been my friend for over 30 years. When I tell people that she has been diagnosed with cancer, they ask how old she is. I say she will be 87 in December. Then they inevitably say, "Well, then. She has had a good long life." I get upset at this (but don't say anything). It is not comforting. I will still miss her terribly. I still feel very sad that she is going to pass away possibly in the near future. I feel like I will lose part of myself when she goes.

My mom passed away last year and I feel like I have just recently stepped off the roller coaster of grief and planted my feet back on level land. Now here I am standing in line waiting for fate to buy me another ticket.