I got a call from my cousin last night. She is a wonderful lady who has opened her home to her 3 grandchildren because her daughter turned out to be a loser. Her younger brother, whom I grew up with, has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. They are giving him 3 to 6 months to live. I'm not sure what kind of cancer he has but it is in a big lump on his neck and I guess has traveled to his lungs.
Dale is 6 months older than I, a fact that he never let me forget while we were growing up. We use to hang out together quite a bit when we were teenagers. I saw him at Mom's funeral and talked for a few minutes. I saw him at his mother's funeral and the time before that, I saw him at my brother's funeral 20 years ago. Notice a pattern here? Anyway, I feel so sad for him. I have thought of lots of things to say to him. "Keep your attitude positive" Miracles happen, just have faith". But somehow, it all feels empty. I keep thinking, what would I do and how would I feel if I knew I was going to die? When Mom was sick, I really didn't let myself think to much about what was happening. I was too close. But with Dale, I find myself having a whole new set of thoughts. I always thought I was ready to die. Don't get me wrong. Not now. What I mean to say is, I am sure of what comes after death and take comfort in that. Death is only the beginning. (I know I've heard that somewhere before.) But now, I keep thinking, I'm not ready yet. I have lots more I want to do.
Anyway, say a prayer for Dale. Live each day the best you can.
I am going to quit procrastinating. And I'm so very good at it. Maybe I'll start tomorrow.......
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
I have spent the better part of today watching news footage on the 911 attack on the World Trade Center. It is one of those times that you will always remember exactly where you were at and what you were doing. Like when I heard Elvis was dead or when I heard the shuttle exploded with the first teacher in space. I can remember looking up in the sky thinking, there are no planes in the air. Wow. Never has that happened in my lifetime. I called my parents on my break from work, asking them what they were seeing and what was going on. Even being so far from NY, I couldn't quelch the feeling that I really wanted to go home. I watched the buildings in downtown KC, half expecting to see something come flying in. The terror people in the towers had to go through. The terror of loved ones on the ground, knowing there was absolutely nothing they could do to help. I watched people falling from the sky. What were they escaping? What were their thoughts? Could I do that facing what they faced? Questions I have been asking myself today. It's been almost 10 years since the attack but my goosebumps were as real today as they were that day, listening to the radio at work, trying to visualize the tramatic turn of events. The streets in Heaven were crowded that day.