Today started my long list of goodbyes.
It’s daunting. I have gone over all the paperwork and I know the risks.
Any one of the drugs or treatments could kill me. I literally sign my life away.
So, the drive to lunch with my friend, Remick, the road I’ve driven thousands of times, is quiet. I reflect on our years as friends and how much of my heart she has. I could spend a page on just her and her fierce devotion to me. I am lucky to have this kind of love in my life. It’s funny how love and the word love and the definition of love morph so much when you get sick. I find myself saying it more and to more people. More people say it to me.
I feel it in their embraces and in concerned eyes. I no longer have the ability for physical love and haven’t since I went into the wheelchair. As time has gone by I miss it less, think of it less but when I do remember, the pain sears through me and doubles me over with sorrow and loss.
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