Things Will Never Be the Same…

Every once in a while, Life catches you mid-stride, just when you are busy going on about your day. Everything is normal. All those you care about are doing their own thing. All is well. Or so it seems.  But then, everything grinds to a halt. There’s a shift in the universe.

And things will never be the same.

Someone you know, a dear friend, has been in the fight of their life for a few months now. This person has always been a force to be reckoned with. She’s the type that would cackle in the face of adversity and say, “Bring it on, you son-of-a-bitch.” But now. Not so much. Now that fight has slipped away and it is just a matter of time before she does as well.

That damned-disease-that-shall-not-be-named, but we all know it so well. All of us touched in some way or another by it – whether we want to be or not. Some make it through the pit of fire while others are not so lucky. It steals in like a thief in the night. One day all is well, or so it seems, and then in an instant everything changes.

And things will never be the same.

That damned-disease-that-shall-not-be-named has ripped through her body at hurricane speed taking everything she has –  all that fight – that wonderful fight she used to have and has knocked it right the hell out of her. This spunky, amazing, tough-as-nails woman.

I ache for my mom because I know she will most likely never get to see her friend again. Friends throughout high school, she and my mom were sort of an unlikely pairing – my mom was Sandy to her Rizzo. (That’s how I always pictured them, anyway) I think we really thought she would beat this damned-disease-that-shall-not-be-named. But that is not to be.

And things will never be the same.



0 thoughts on “Things Will Never Be the Same…

  1. Oh, Tracy. I am so very sorry. I understand this so well, and it is like you have read what was in my heart. All of my love to you and your family, and your mom’s friend.

  2. Hey Brandee. I thought of you as I was writing this and am praying all positive thoughts for your family. I was worried about you reading this and causing you more pain and hope I have not done that. Hugs, love and thanks for your support.

  3. Not at all. Sharing this type of thing seems to help, somehow. I have to be strong for my cousin, so I don’t always let on how hard it is in front of her, or in front of my kids. The interwebs give me a place to share, comiserate (sp?) and find support.

    Thank you for thinking of me, but don’t ever worry about that…this is your space, and it is so very personal. I guess that it goes back to sharing, and how that affects other people. We have to be aware, but this is also the place that we should be able to express ourselves honestly.

  4. I’m so sorry, Tracy. I had a tough-as-nails sister-in-law very much like the woman you describe who went through this same unmentionable disease. A positive, “I’ll kick-its-ass” attitude worked for two years. But, in the end, she lost the battle at age 42. I cringe as I approach my forties and think how horrible it is that her life was cut so short. I can empathize with your EVERY emotion right now. Thinking of you.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *