Mixed Emotions
“It’s so curious: one can resist tears and ‘behave’ very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer… and everything collapses.” — Colette
We went to the movies Saturday afternoon. On the way out I stopped in the restroom. When I emerged there was a woman talking to hubby and the boys. Her back was to me and I didn’t know who she was. I walked over to them and turned around. I’m not sure if I audibly gasped or if it was only in my head. It was a friend of ours from whom we haven’t heard in quite some time. Our boys no longer attend the same schools and the mutual friend we had shared is no longer in our lives. It also seemed as if our friend in the movie theater had sort of gone into hiding a little over a year ago. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
She’s always been a reserved and private person. We never got too close. But I like her. And I have thought of her often over the past year. I sent a few e-mails that went unanswered and heard other friends had the same experience. I finally just hoped for the best and figured she’d contact me if she wanted to.
She immediately commented that she liked the pink ribbon I was wearing on my coat. The pink ribbon that Gina’s daughters passed out to all the guests at her wake. I gasped (again not sure if it was audible or not), muttered an awkward, “thank you.” without explaining where I got my ribbon or what it represents to me, grabbed the ribbon and continued holding onto it for few moments before giving her a teary-eyed hug. I asked how she was and she said good. There was some small talk about the kids and her husband and then hubby was wrapping up the conversation. I looked into her eyes for a moment. I needed more.
I told hubby and the kids to go on and I’d catch up in a minute. I had to know. She certainly looked healthy and her hair looked much like it had the last time I saw her, before her diagnosis. I asked about the cancer and her treatment. She had chemo, then a lumpectomy, then radiation and has been cancer-free since December! I was so happy for her and her family. I had to hug her again, although I know she’s even less of a touchy-feely person than I usually am. I told her how happy I was for her. We talked some more about how it’s been an “interesting” year but that the worst seems to be behind her, she feels good and is going to start looking for work. She has to stay on medication for five years and get frequent scans but so far so good.
I was awe-struck. I was standing there talking to an actual breast cancer survivor. It felt great, exhilarating even. Like I imagine talking to one of your favorite celebrities would feel. Her kids will not have to know what it feels like to lose their mother so young. Her husband will not be left alone to pick up the pieces. She can move on with her life. Absolutely amazing.
We finally parted and after I was a safe distance from her and back with my family, I lost it. Sobbing. They didn’t understand. It hit me like a ton of bricks. If things had gone differently, that could have been Gina.
An innocent afternoon at the movies with my family turned into this unbelievable encounter with a survivor.
In all fairness, her prognosis was never as dicey as Gina’s had been because she did not have the same type of breast cancer. Gina’s was the worst case scenario.
My emotions were all over the place. An almost giddy happiness for my friend and her family combined with the intense grief in knowing I will never run into Gina in a movie theater. And then the guilt. Guilt for feeling sad for one friend when another friend had beaten the odds and was thriving. An entire roller coaster of emotion within a ten minute time period.
This grief “process” is more like a relative calm before the storm immediately followed by the crashing in of an epic tidal wave with no warning.
I miss my friend.
Thanks for stopping by!
No one ever told us life would be like this. I am holding your hand … it seems absurd that the cards would be dealt this way. I know, I know. I feel the clutch of your hand, the hurt of your heart right now. How I wish things could be different …. XoXo
Dawn´s last blog ..Dirty Bitches Like Jane Balvanz
Thank you Dawn.
Cyndi, I so feel your pain. Grief is like that. Can feel calm as can be and then wham! I lost it looking at my MIL’s shower curtain, then again finding her wig in a box. Just gotta ride the waves and hope we hang on.Sending you hugs,
Karen
Karen Walker´s last blog ..Weekend update
Thank you Karen, well said. And {{HUGS}} right back to you.
I’ve noticed the same thing, too. There are times I suddenly well-up reminded of my Grammy and struggle to keep myself together if I’m in public.
But, I’ve also noticed there are moments of happiness and reminders coming now, too. Something I know she would have loved or a “sign” that makes me feel like she is w/ me and I’ll smile and feel better.
It’s nice to have a mixture of both lately instead of JUST the sad part.
Christina´s last blog ..How to Cut a Fresh Pineapple & Award
Hi Cyndi, I’ve looked at your blog many times but never commented. This post has moved me. I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend but I’m filled with warmth hearing of your other friend’s recovery. As someone fighting my own battle with cancer (melanoma), you’ve touched me. I recently lost my 9 year old chemo buddy to another type of cancer and while I barely knew him I can’t describe the pain I felt. I felt guilty that I was doing so well in my fight yet this beautiful boy was lost. That I have had a rich and happy life, yet his was only beginning.
I’ve had my own close call and tough fight this past month or so and it’s given me a new perspective on life and death. I know this will make me sound like a cliché but I have no other way to express it. While we grieve for those we have loved and have lost, I can assure you they are Angels who help us find the strength to keep going. I hope you find your peace and are able to smile with the warm memories of your friend.
Thank you so much Janelle. I have been following your blog too and commented a lot when you were in the hospital. I’m so glad Tammy brought us together! Thank you for your comments and I’m so sorry to hear about your chemo buddy.
This must have been so hard for you, like being blindsided. Hopefully as time goes by, the pain won’t feel so sharp, and you’ll be able to remember Gina without feeling so sad.
I am able to remember Gina without feeling sad most of the time, but you are right about this encounter. I was blindsided. I didn’t expect the emotions I felt any more than I expected to run into her that day.
you know what touched me about this post? the fact that you lingered and celebrated with a survivor. what an amazing gift you gave her and gina. your hugs. your cheers. you relationship with gina changed you forever and there are others who will benefit and be blessed by that.
hugs friend.
consuella´s last blog ..entering well
My relationship with Gina absolutely did change me. She was an amazing woman, mother and friend. And can you believe that I hugged her….TWICE?!
big safe hugs.
There are no accidents, that person was at the movies for you and her to talk and to act as a catalyst to heal from the lost of Gina. Love to you.
Mark´s last blog ..The Reflection of Our Reactions
You are such a good writer. Since my nephew died last year at the young age of 26, I’ve experienced many little miracles that have made me a more spiritual person–I believe spirit guides and loved ones who have passed on comfort us with little signs. I also believe that you running into that survivor was Gina’s way of reaching out to you–her mentioning the pink ribbon–Gina was sending her love and saying all is well on the other side–there is hope and we live on! Sounds corny to some–but I’m now a believer. And you embrassing the survivor–you hugged her right back! Hugs to you from me. Elaine
Elaine´s last blog ..Feb. 20, 2010 Moving on from a Narcissistic Parent–A Former Obedient Child’s Fight For Freedom
Thank you Elaine. I’m so sorry about your nephew.
I’m on something of a spiritual quest and have no real beliefs but what you’ve proposed is definitely worthy of consideration and I really want to believe it because it’s so lovely and comforting.
I didn’t give a 2nd thought to her noticing my pink ribbon since it represents a cause that is obviously close to her heart. In hindsight it is inexplicable that I felt compelled to hug her twice considering my usual reluctance to express affection combined with my belief that she is also uncomfortable with affection.
I fully expected Gina to contact me in some way but based on our relationship I expected something much more obvious and direct….almost like a fun haunting prank of some sort.