As I sit and type today, I am once again sitting in my friend Fancy’s home in Maryland.  A year ago, we were walking the streets of Annapolis.  We stopped at shops, museums, and found tasty food and drink.  We laughed and talked and did what girlfriends of many years do when they get together.  There is comfort in friendships where you do not have to explain or apologize for time that passes.  There is comfort in unconditional love.

My morning started at 4:00 AM, wakened from my sleep on the couch to sounds of Fancy saying “Help me… Help me” to her night caregiver.  She is in a hospital bed, wearing oxygen.  She is weak and frail.  Cancer has slowly taken the body of my friend.  When I look in her searching, tired blue eyes, I can see that it is taking her spirit as well.  I got up, gave a helping hand to the aid, and we helped Fancy find a bit of peace so she could drift back to sleep.

Cancer sucks.

After the caregiver left, I had time to just sit and be with Fancy at her bedside.  I had the Rosary that she had given me last fall… the one that belonged to her Granny… and I used the time to recite the prayers that we have both known since we were children.  As I prayed the words aloud, Fancy searched my face.  Her eyes closed, and she drifted off to sleep.  In my humanness, and desire for her to have peace, my hope is that it offered her some comfort.  

When I arrived yesterday, Fancy was sitting up in bed, with Dr. Hank nearby.  She looked at me, took my hands, and said “Kim, I’m glad you are here.  I love you.”  I did not realize it would be the last time she would acknowledge me by name.  In less than 24 hours, there is less of my precious friend present in the room.

Later in the morning, the house became busy as Fancy’s sister and Dr. Hank met with an attorney to discuss the end times and the “business” of death.  This was my first time meeting Fancy’s sister.  As I listened to her, I could see the characteristic strong woman that is such a part of that family.

I still had the Rosary in my pocket.  When the meeting finished, I pulled Fancy’s sister aside and held out the tiny box as a treasure, and offered it to her.  She did not know of the Rosary, and her eyes filled with tears as I told her how Fancy had given it to me, and I felt it was better served in the hands of another strong woman in the family.  She hugged me, and told me she would pray with their mother when she got home.  I hope it is a way they can remain connected, and have comfort in the days to come.

Despite the state of affairs, I am so glad I came.  I am glad I could help care for my dear friend and her partner.  I am grateful for the memories we have created, and the stories we can tell.  This is a time of life where people tend to stay away as it creates discomfort to see someone we love in so much pain.  I am glad I was able to move past my own feelings and could bring a smile and some love to my friend in her time of need…even if it is just to sit and hold her hand while she sleeps.  Comfort comes in many forms.  

As I sit near an opened window, I can hear the birds singing out side.  Their song is a reminder to me that life goes on.  I am sad that my dear Fancy will no longer be here, but I want her to find peace and no longer be ravaged by such a horrific disease.

Cancer sucks.

I made this trip to say goodbye to my friend.  I know when she leaves this life, she will be watching out for me.  She will be smiling.  And that gives me comfort.