Loss

In February 2009, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.  The next six months were focused on surgery and treatment. During that time, one of the dearest, most interesting members of my book club, Elaine, was also diagnosed with breast cancer.  We walked, laughed, cried and wailed against the shock of living healthy lives and still having cancer.  Elaine and I became friends and confidantes. I looked forward to our times together. We were both surprised when we realized that our conversations no longer featured our common illness, but instead focused on life and its boundless choices. Books, family, gardens, travel, people, wine, food, politics...there were no limits to the things we talked about.  We had long phone calls, talking about our day, shaking with laughter, full of happiness for our renewed sense of control over our health and lives.
Then, last month, while on a short trip to the Oregon coast, Elaine's stomach was bothering her.  Within three weeks, she was dead from a very aggressive, vicious form of cancer that attacked her abdominal organs. It happened so fast that the doctors were unable to start any treatment or surgery. The entire book club was stunned!
The loss of Elaine is tremendous. Not only are her wry comments and point of view missed by the members of the book club, but also her missing friendship is ache for which there is no cure. To find a friend, a true friend, for which no explanations are necessary, is a treasure. And to develop a friendship as an adult is a rarity few experience. I grieve Elaine's passing and think of all the things that cancer has robbed her of. I am saddened that the unexpected partner that walked with me during some of my darkest days is no longer there to help hold the lantern lighting the path of life.
So, I ask you, whom do you call when the phone is disconnected?