I don’t know what to say.
I have deadlines to meet, ideas to pan out, people waiting, expectations.
Yet, nothing happens.
When the gorgeous girl with the contagious laugh and permanently twinkling eyes, the one who walked into your house, into your life, and so casually made herself an unofficial sister gives you the bad news, it rocks you.
It makes you unable to write sentences. Unable to think straight.
It makes you want to reach into her, take the bad news out, pull it into yourself and say, “Don’t worry. I’ll do this for you. You’ll be okay.”
But you can’t.
I have to leave it up to the strangers. I have to have faith that her strength, the prayers and hopes of all of us that love her, and the doctors she and her husband trust, will make it go away.
I have to feel weak but look strong. I have to feel helpless but offer my services. I have to stand tall when all I want is to curl myself around her and shout at the world that it can’t throw even one more itty bitty thing at a person so lovely.
No way. No how.
I have to move forward so she can move forward, start that countdown of healing, of winning, of moving past this new stage of her life. I need to stick by her side in the right direction for both of us.
And so I go, I do, I try.
I pray, I hope, I wish.
I give myself a pass for being unable to write anything down except No! No! No! No! No! a thousand times in a row.
I shake off the anger when it comes gnawing, I let the weeping pass through me only in quick bursts, I drain the love from my whole body and send it her way.
Over and over and over again.
I tell myself it will be okay.
It is the only option.