About death and life.

Friday
Standing in the oppressive noon-time sun of the desert
In a huge cemetery, plots empty and waiting surround us.
The sun beating down,
my friend going down,
down,
down,
into her final resting place.

Her brave husband seems so frail.
He takes a shovel, slowly shovels dirt onto his wife's body.
Their children follow suit.
Tears.
Broken hearts.
We all place stones.

"She was too young."
"I can't imagine him without her"
"This does not seem real"
"The kids..... the grand kids....."

I see my friends and loved ones all around
"We have met too many times here in this cemetery"
"Yes", they say.

I limp and am trying to hold myself up straight.
The pain is strongest when I stand in one place.
And when I walk.
And when I lie down.
It never ends.

I just want to stay in bed because it hurts so much.
I must get up and LIVE.
I have been granted another chance.

I asked my husband what was going through his mind at the funeral.
"You. I was thinking of the fact that it could have been me giving that speech at your funeral".

Shabbat found us looking through old photo albums.
There she is, in full color, smiling, dancing, in every photo album.
Caught me off guard.
Eva.

Third meal on Shabbat at the home of dear, loved friends. We've been together for twenty years.
Musicians
He told me of when I was in the ICU and he came in and played violin for me.
My parents walked in at around that same time.
Off the plane, straight to the hospital.
My mother cried "my baby!" and threw herself over me, crying.
Tube in my throat, confusion in my head.
What happened to me? I didn't yet know My Story.

I took a half of Percocet on Shabbat. I just didn't want the pain anymore.
It took the edge off the pain, but I felt awful about putting morphine back into my body.
That was how I  could get to third meal with friends on Shabbat.

Today:
News from America, another friend passed away from cancer.
Susan.
More broken hearts.
Including my own.

cancercancercancercancercancercancercancercancercancercancer

I hate you.

(I know, not the most profound thing I've ever said.)

OK, that's out of my system for now.

Tuesday we go to a friend's baby welcoming party... to celebrate LIFE together.

This baby is a miracle. The mother is "advanced maternal age", it's the first baby that stayed with her.

The new mother, one of our previous nanny's, is over-the-moon happy.

LIFE.