death

The woman who showed me and taught me how to pretty much live a strong and good life is dying. Just before Thanksgiving, she had a cough and got it checked out. I remember so clearly that she told me, "Let's talk again in a couple of days. I am sure I'm going to feel better by tomorrow." It turned out to be lung cancer. So she changed her diet and was about to start chemo when the next scan revealed that the cancer had spread throughout her lungs. She had one or two chemo sessions and got pneumonia. That was last week. She's in the hospital now and tomorrow she'll go home. No more treatment. The cancer is too far gone. She has very little time left.
She did a massive amount of my laundry when I was overwhelmed with my first baby. We lived on the top floor of their home then. I was embarrassed by my inability to deal with laundry and taking out the garbage so I kept saying, "Oh, no. I'll get that. Don't worry about it." And she'd say, "I'm heading downstairs anyway. Why don't I just take it." And she'd take our garbage bag down the stairs to the bin. I wanted to be able to show her I'm OK now. For longer. Because of her, and her advice to listen to the doctors who told me I needed medication for my depression, I was able to start keeping up with chores. I have been at the point where I am about ready to actively pursue other interests, instead of just swatting at the balls hurtling in my direction.
When I had pneumonia, she came up to our place, told my spouse to get the pills I was supposed to take, gave them to me, and then dipped a corn chip in guacamole and fed it to me. She later said she was sorry but that she gets bossy when she's scared. I was so sick that I didn't know how sick I was. She told me that too.
What I'm going to tell her is that I love her and I am so grateful for everything she taught me. I am going to reassure her that I will be just fine, and I'll continue to put to use everything I've learned. I'll do everything I know how to do to let her know that I am OK and she doesn't have to spend one second worrying about me, my husband, or my kids.
Then I'll stand up and step forward. Because the world will have lost a brilliant soul, and there will be a lot of work to do.