Not ready

I thought I was ready to go back out in the world.

Not as a cancer patient.

Not as an object of pity or solicitude.

Just a mom, out with her friends at night.

But, as it turns out, I am not fully healed.

The mention of death (in the book we’d just read) made me flinch.

The fact that the man didn’t want to live anymore made me angry.

The comment, “I wonder where we’ll all be in 50 years” made me — unjustifiably — unbelievably sad.

For, truthfully, I will not be the only one dead by then.

Not all of us make it to 85.

But I?  I have less than even odds that I’ll make it to 40.

So I made a lame (if true) excuse and left the bright lights of the fancy cafe

To come home and snuggle with my children and put them to bed

Kiss my husband and

Say thank you for loving me anyway


4 Responses to Not ready

  1. Diane says:

    So beautifully written and honest. Thank you.

  2. I wanted to cry, just reading this. It is so true.

    I was at a class (the Jewish version of a Bible study group), and we were reading a text about a dialogue between King David and God. King David was worried about what would be written about him after he was dead.

    As we were learning, I kept fighting back my tears.

    I kept regaining my calm, then losing it, then regaining it, until it became too much.

    I don’t know if I made it to the bathroom without drawing too much attention to myself. As is, I barely made it in time. I closed the door, and burst out crying.

    I could not stop the tears.

    I could not stop thinking about what people will say about me after I am dead….

    Death seems so close these days.

    So much closer than I ever thought….

    I’m tearing now, just writing this.

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