My mom’s best friend died yesterday. She’d had cancer for years now, first in the stomach, then the liver, then bone. In December she went into hospice with mega-doses of morphine because the pain was so bad. (It was mostly situated in her tailbone, so both sitting and standing caused excruciating agony.) While it wasn’t a total shock that she died, it still really pisses me off. She was such a great lady, one of the most positive people I know. Why is it that Dubya, fuckhead of the universe, can walk around, healthy as all get-out, and people like her have to die of cancer?? It’s just not fair.
Her name was Naomi. We saw them most holidays and about every month when my folks and Naomi and her husband would play cards in Black Creek. We grew up with their kids. I don’t know how it started, but for decades, every time my dad would see her, he would shout, “Hey Nomi, you know me?” And every time she would laugh and smile like it was the first time she heard it. I never heard her complain once about anything, not even the cancer. The most she would do is talk matter-of-factly about the affects of the chemo, or how it affected her eating.
She and her husband were married for over 50 years. What is it like to be with someone so long? And how do you live without them? I’ve only been with Jeremy for 8 ½ years, and he feels like me—like my arm, or my lungs. What a total absence that must be….an ache or a ghost that never goes away. I can’t even imagine.
The funeral is probably this weekend, so we’ll be driving to Wisconsin on Friday afternoon and coming back Saturday night.
We’re meeting with Jeremy’s mom on Sunday. It would have been Jeremy’s brother’s birthday, and his mom is finally ready to go to Hidden Falls, near where we think he killed himself over three years ago. We spread his ashes on the other side of the park last year, but she’s never been able to go any closer. Sigh. It will be a very emotional weekend.