Thursday, November 03, 2005

October 31st, 2005 in our house

our Halloween was fun. I came in fourth in our company's costume contest. (it was rigged I tell you - I lost to a table with lamp, a bull rider and paris hilton.)



of course, I don't have any photos of the munchkin, because I'm a sucky mommy like that.

Then, we took Micah (who was dressed as Ariel - I took film photos so they will come) trick-or-treating around my cousin's neighborhood. And as they do every year, even though they say they're going at 4 pm and that they'll wait for us - when we arrived at 5 minutes to 4 - they were already long gone. Nice, huh?

Anyway, so our first stop was my uncle's house which is right next to my cousin's house and I guess he needed to speak to someone because he blurts out, "Did Rich tell you?" "Tell me what?" "She (my cousin) has 6-8 weeks left."

just.like.that.

My cousin, who is so much more than just a cousin to me, she was my "husband" during my pregnancy, attending all the birthing classes with me, she's my sister, she's my friend, my confident, and she's dying. She's not yet 42 years old and she's dying. Most likely, before Christmas even.

She'll leave behind a husband and 3 kids ages 9, 11 and 12. I'm insane right now. With sadness and stress and anger... I'm also relieved, a bit. When I stopped by last week, she was sleeping throughout my visit. (She's bed-ridden, except that her husband carries her out to the couch each morning because that way she can still be a part of everything, and even talking exhausts her.) At one point, she woke up and said hello and told me not to bring Micah over because she was afraid that her pain would scare Micah. I didn't quite understand. But then she started moaning. And she asked for her pain medication. And then there was more moaning. And when I say moaning people, I'm talking screaming. Outloud. In pain. And no one flinched. Her husband gave her her pill and she was asleep within minutes. But that entire 3 minutes she was awake, she was literally screaming out in pain. And it must happen often because her kids didn't even notice. There was no break in their conversation, no sideward glances or empathetic, "It'll be alright, Mom"s. nothing. They're used to it. That, for me, was scary.

So, by next year, she'll probably have moved on to another place, another world and for the first time in about a year, she won't be in pain.

And I can't stop crying anyway.