Walker left early this morning for a Superbowl family reunion weekend. I could have gone, but when we planned it, I was looking forward to a couple days to myself, after the craziness that comes with the holiday season and the end of the fiscal year at the office. Now, I'm thinking that wasn't a good decision. I don't mind being alone, but the last couple weeks have been difficult. Right now, the house is too quiet, even with the TV for company.
My sweet friend, the lovely Miss Cherie, has entered hospice. She was diagnosed with cancer one year to the day that I officially beat it. To me, that was a good omen: Cherie would beat it, too. We would share a happy anniversary. And for the next year, it looked like she would do just that. She looked great, she felt great, the tumors were shrinking, she had minimal side effects. Then, suddenly, the cancer fought back. Chemo quit working, radiation quit working, an army of cancer cells like evil Pac Men took over, spreading and growing, and now....well, now there is hospice, and tears. Friends post wishes, prayers, and happy memories on Facebook. Some of them say good-bye. It's so, so hard to just sit here, waiting, praying. I have done this three times now. It sucks, I hate it, and there is not one single thing I can do to make it better.