Dead Woman Walking

Those who know me know of my relationship with healing and illness. It is a begrudgingly intimate one that I would’ve rather not had, yet I can honestly say I wouldn’t change having to stare death in the face for anything in the world. Does it make me a little more sensitive to the dead and the issues of ghosts? I think it does. I can’t count the number of times I have met a so-called “expert” and discovered they really know very little of life. They give the best advice (here I mean the diviners/fortune tellers/psychics/mediums) they possibly can, but few have ever stared the End in the eye. Their advice is only as good as their life experience. After all, if you don’t know what it is like to embrace death, how can you ever REALLY KNOW how to live?

I attend a weekly support group for advanced stage cancer patients and can count the dying and the dead as dear friends. They do not scare me; it doesn’t scare me. After all, none of us get out of life alive. I don’t have to have a dire diagnosis to die tomorrow- I could very easily get hit by a crosstown bus at rush hour. (And what a waste of perfectly good chemotherapy that would be! Who do I will my Dilauded to? My friends will probably fight over the Vicatin and Ativan. LOL!) Being a Virgo, what scares me most is leaving a mess behind…”who gets what?” and “where did she put her Will?” I love my husband but the male gender has an allergy to locating things when they need them. If I weren’t alive I seriously doubt my beloved, sweet husband could find his underwear. But that’s a whole other story.

Anyway, a couple days ago I learned a friend of mine with advanced breast cancer was given 2 years to live. She’s 35. I was devastated. She is someone who lights the room up with her presence and whose growth since her recurrance has been tenfold. I look in her eyes and I see the Sun. I know others, too, see it. if there is an a ray of light in our little band of survivors, it is N…She’s made the decision to discontinue treatment and return home. So now we all must say good-bye. And Good-Bye.

From one dead woman walking to another, my friend, I wish you radical joy; unbridled freedom, and senseless, effortless abandon.

Rock on!!



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