Karen

A week ago I spent about an hour with a friend who was in the final stages of ovarian cancer. She was in a hospital bed on her sun porch, surrounded by plants, her arts and crafts furniture that she loved, and windows looking out on her overgrown gardens. 

Her sons and husband and cat sat in chairs around the bed. I sat across the bed from her husband. We talked about lots of things as he caressed and kissed and cried over her. We laughed more than I thought we would. Her family came and went from the room- when I was alone with her I told her about about Japan and how much she would have loved it there, because it was such a beautiful place and she loved beautiful things. I told her if I was talking too much she needed to give me a sign to get lost. She smiled.

All I could think if when I looked at her was the word "ravaged." The cancer had devoured  her like something out of a horror movie. A few weeks ago she sat in one of her beautiful carved chairs and we talked about our families, our work, our lives. Last Tuesday she was a shadow of herself, fading into death. 

This morning she died. I don't know what to say except that she was one of the best people I knew, and I'm so glad I had that time to say goodbye. It's strange to be here without her.