Soup with Mary
I met my sister-in-law for lunch today. She had been sending me texts for weeks, asking me to find a time. I had been stalling.
I don't really do lunch anymore with anyone. It is just too hard to predict how I will feel on any given day. Some days are fine, others not so much. Some days, my stomach just doesn't do well with food or....the smell of it. I find it difficult when the subject turns to my health and it inevitably does and then....there are sometimes tears to contend with and it is all just too much.
But, I love Mary. She is a good person and has been a good friend to me over the years. When I was well, she and I often went out for dinner when I got off work, just the two of us. T hates family gatherings of any kind and she preferred to just hear about the family news secondhand from me.
I think the final straw was when I went to the ER and we had to miss our niece and her husband's visit from Oregon. Mary sent me a text insisting that I give her a date or a time when she could come visit me at home.
I don't like to be visited at home because I can't really control the time factor. If we are at a cafe, I can visit for an hour and call it quits. So, I chose a nearby cafe that specializes in homemade soups that I was pretty sure I would be able to keep down.
We met there today.
And it was lovely. Yes, there were tears. But, not a fountain of them. Just a few. And they were tears over losing me, so I can't complain. How could I? It is a huge compliment to know that I will be missed by someone.
We caught up on each other's news. She is raising her grandson and he is a bright shiny penny. We talked about how his third grade year was going. Turns out that his teacher kept sending notes home that he was misbehaving.
"It was odd. We've never had behavioral problems with him before. So, finally, we just sat him down and asked him to explain why this was happening. It turns out that there is a boy in his class who is a behavioral problem and the teacher has been rewarding him for each good day he has with a piece of candy at the end of the day. Well, he thought some candy would sure be nice. So, yeah...he decided that HE would act up and see if he could get the same deal."
We laughed over that. How clever. I predict that this kid will have an interesting life. He doesn't miss much.
We talked about her other children, her sciatica, how hard it is to be a parent again at the ripe old age of 62.
"We only had three months as empty nesters and then we had B. Not that I'm complaining. I would do anything for that boy. But, I am so much older now. Everything is harder. I'll be 71 when he graduates from high school. Suddenly, I am so much more inclined to take care of myself. I need to stay healthy for him."
We talked about how weird life is. How T and I had always planned to both work until we were 67 and then retire to New Orleans. Now, that was not going to happen.
"Make plans, God laughs," she said. I nodded.
I looked away for a moment and when I looked back at her, she was in tears.
"I don't want you to die," she said. "I want this chemo to work. This chemo HAS to work."
I said what I always say when conversations drift in this direction. I told her that people die every day and that when it was my time, it would be my time.
"But, our family really loves you," she said. "No one is ready to say goodbye to you."
I told her that I really love her family, too. That they have never shown me anything but kindness and that I hoped I would be around for a bit longer to enjoy that.
I never know what else to say. And it turns out that nothing more was needed.
She went back to her french onion soup and I went back to my beef broth. We commented on how fresh the rye bread was. And we went on to the topic of her twin granddaughters.
It is how most of my conversations go these days. Things get a little raw, a little pained and then we just....go on.
Afterwards, she bought an apple dumpling to take home to her grandson for his after school treat and we stood by my car saying our goodbyes.
"Let's do this again soon," I said. I did not know if we would or not, but I just can't say maudlin things like I hope I get to see you before I kick the bucket.
We hugged and held on just a little longer than usual.
We ended on a laugh. Mary said, "You know, one of us could pull out of this parking lot and get hit by a truck. Life is just weird."
So, we exited laughing. It is the best way.
I don't really do lunch anymore with anyone. It is just too hard to predict how I will feel on any given day. Some days are fine, others not so much. Some days, my stomach just doesn't do well with food or....the smell of it. I find it difficult when the subject turns to my health and it inevitably does and then....there are sometimes tears to contend with and it is all just too much.
But, I love Mary. She is a good person and has been a good friend to me over the years. When I was well, she and I often went out for dinner when I got off work, just the two of us. T hates family gatherings of any kind and she preferred to just hear about the family news secondhand from me.
I think the final straw was when I went to the ER and we had to miss our niece and her husband's visit from Oregon. Mary sent me a text insisting that I give her a date or a time when she could come visit me at home.
I don't like to be visited at home because I can't really control the time factor. If we are at a cafe, I can visit for an hour and call it quits. So, I chose a nearby cafe that specializes in homemade soups that I was pretty sure I would be able to keep down.
We met there today.
And it was lovely. Yes, there were tears. But, not a fountain of them. Just a few. And they were tears over losing me, so I can't complain. How could I? It is a huge compliment to know that I will be missed by someone.
We caught up on each other's news. She is raising her grandson and he is a bright shiny penny. We talked about how his third grade year was going. Turns out that his teacher kept sending notes home that he was misbehaving.
"It was odd. We've never had behavioral problems with him before. So, finally, we just sat him down and asked him to explain why this was happening. It turns out that there is a boy in his class who is a behavioral problem and the teacher has been rewarding him for each good day he has with a piece of candy at the end of the day. Well, he thought some candy would sure be nice. So, yeah...he decided that HE would act up and see if he could get the same deal."
We laughed over that. How clever. I predict that this kid will have an interesting life. He doesn't miss much.
We talked about her other children, her sciatica, how hard it is to be a parent again at the ripe old age of 62.
"We only had three months as empty nesters and then we had B. Not that I'm complaining. I would do anything for that boy. But, I am so much older now. Everything is harder. I'll be 71 when he graduates from high school. Suddenly, I am so much more inclined to take care of myself. I need to stay healthy for him."
We talked about how weird life is. How T and I had always planned to both work until we were 67 and then retire to New Orleans. Now, that was not going to happen.
"Make plans, God laughs," she said. I nodded.
I looked away for a moment and when I looked back at her, she was in tears.
"I don't want you to die," she said. "I want this chemo to work. This chemo HAS to work."
I said what I always say when conversations drift in this direction. I told her that people die every day and that when it was my time, it would be my time.
"But, our family really loves you," she said. "No one is ready to say goodbye to you."
I told her that I really love her family, too. That they have never shown me anything but kindness and that I hoped I would be around for a bit longer to enjoy that.
I never know what else to say. And it turns out that nothing more was needed.
She went back to her french onion soup and I went back to my beef broth. We commented on how fresh the rye bread was. And we went on to the topic of her twin granddaughters.
It is how most of my conversations go these days. Things get a little raw, a little pained and then we just....go on.
Afterwards, she bought an apple dumpling to take home to her grandson for his after school treat and we stood by my car saying our goodbyes.
"Let's do this again soon," I said. I did not know if we would or not, but I just can't say maudlin things like I hope I get to see you before I kick the bucket.
We hugged and held on just a little longer than usual.
We ended on a laugh. Mary said, "You know, one of us could pull out of this parking lot and get hit by a truck. Life is just weird."
So, we exited laughing. It is the best way.
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