Fucking Cancer

I got news about someone I love and their cancer journey on the same day I heard about Billy Block's death. It's funny the way some deaths hit me even when it's people I didn't know. I sat reading beautiful words on facebook about Billy Block and the force of his life and I just felt it physically. I don't know why it reminded me of my sister's death but it did. Maybe because I was reading about the waiting, and then finally his death. I remember that feeling of timelessness, of complete focus and waiting. And I remember those last few days of my sister's life so vividly in some ways----in other ways it's a blur. After she passed I wanted to be strong and calm and sit with her body but I couldn't. My sister Debbie washed her body, the hospice nurse came in...once the hearse from the funeral home arrived I gathered the boys and closed myself in the media room. The boys were so little....they were only 7 and 9. I listened to the people tramp up our stairs. Judi had pointed out our tight staircase and said to me, "Don't let them DROP me" and we had laughed. They didn't drop her and I wanted to tell her that. Leo stayed snuggled with me but the drama got Owen hopping and he said, "I'm going to go check on things." He came back and cheerfully reported that they'd put her in a bag and zipped it right over her face. Ah, my sweet baby was stronger than me...and Judi would have loved that.

I don't know why that came back to me so strongly. Perhaps because from everything I've read Billy Block adored his family and saw them as his greatest work. I never met the man.....just sat next to him at a table once whereupon Owen, who was 5, whispered to me that he looked just like George Washington. He kinda did at that point in time. 

Fucking cancer.