A friend of mine just learned about my cancer tonight. I didn't think that someone may not know yet. As I'm telling the specifics, she says something along the lines of "you are taking this better than I am, it almost seems like you don't care."
I don't get emotional telling people. I state my diagnosis and its details matter-of-factly, might even sound chipper as I do so. No need to deliver sad news with more negative emotion if I can help it, and I don't let myself dwell in the land of "what-if" for too long, though stop there briefly on bad days. Maybe because every indication I've been given is that there's a good chance of making it out of here alive...
If I often thought about the possibility of death, the real dread that the word cancer conjures, I'm uncertain how I'd cope. Would I even attempt to save my own life past the bleakness? Would I awaken with joy and hope, or would I fear the future until my last breath?
She and I both have health issues. We've faced health scares and, on occasion, a makeout session with Lord Death. And we still smile and love and soldier on, so I'm uncertain why my reaction upset her. Perhaps because it was just a shock to hear the news.
She also said I should write out a will. Though I've given some thought as to my final wishes (how could I not?), I'm refraining. I'm not terminal. I have nothing of real worth. Would my family really fight over my Nintendo 3DS? My clothing that's as far from "designer label" as clothes can get? I have no expensive jewelry or land, no vehicles. Much of what I own my husband co-owns.
I only have two sets of things that carry any value in this world: My poetry (however little that's actually worth), and the people I'm lucky love me in return. The memory I leave, the love I bestow, is the greatest thing I can give them. And they will carry me with them... hopefully leaving gentle fingerprints upon other hearts. There is nothing more than this. It is enough.
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