I had the unpleasant experience of being told last week by a close friend that his mother had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. It seems that these things don't happen in a slow, progressive way anymore, as in her unfortunate case it is stage IV. In the staging scheme of things a stage IV cancer has often metastasized, or spread to other organs or throughout the body. There wasn't much I could do or say to him, other than feel shock. As he told me what little he knew at that point I was also overtaken with a sense of grief... for him, for his family, for her. Our friends are our 'families that we choose,' and in the case of this friend I definitely felt the shock of his news.
I suppose I have been very lucky to not have serious illness crop up in my immediate or extended family very much. With the exception of my sister-in-law Annie, who died of liver cancer last year, we rarely see it. Perhaps that's contributing to my feelings. Why did this happen to this woman? This woman who it seemed had lived a very rewarding life... one that was headed for a very rewarding retirement, surrounded by a very loving family of children and grandchildren, friends and family? Why to some and not others? That indeed is the nature of illness... and life.
While we were chatting my friend mentioned he hadn't told many others about what was going on. He didn't feel it necessary and he just didn't want to deal with all the questions and conversations he would have to face. True, in the same position I'd probably feel the same way... maybe. Then again, my family talks about everything. Everything is open for discussion, for better or worse. “It helps to have support,” was all I told him.
He sent me more information today about his mother's condition. I was actually surprised at the amount he was willing to share. But I was also honored that he did so. Perhaps he took my advice? I'm just glad that I can be here for him if he needs anything. You can't push it, and you can't dictate how you help... perhaps that's the truest form of compassion.
