Sometimes, we are blessed enough to have someone in our life who teaches us about living. However, it is rare to have a friend who teaches us about dying.
“How are you doing?”
That’s a perfectly normal text to get from a friend, except this friend is under hospice care. Helen has been battling breast cancer for twenty years. I had to smile at her question. I wanted to say: “How am I? How are YOU?” But, that’s my Helen, always positive and thinking of others even though she’s been through hell and back over and over again.
Some years back, Helen was there when I was at my lowest point. I was battling a hellish disease, I was a sobbing mess and ready to give up.
Helen knew it and called me immediately. Going through yet another round of chemo herself, she offered the wisdom only she could. She said, “If you can crawl to a chair, crawl to it. Look outside and listen to the birds and notice the flowers and the trees. If that’s all you do today, it is enough.”
I took her wise words to heart and have never forgotten them. After decades of uncountable treatments with awful side effects, she knew what she was talking about. She gave me the courage to keep going.
We started sending each other pictures on our bad days of our tired bodies snuggled under our favorite blankets. It started as a joke but quickly became a lifeline for me.
People were out in the world living their lives and we were inside just trying to survive. But, knowing that I had Helen made it all seem okay somehow. We’d send pictures and jokes to each other and laugh. Because, Helen has little patience for tears and no time for self-pity.
When she was told she had six months left to live, instead of crying, Helen told me, “This is going to be the best six months ever!” She didn’t have big plans, she was “just going to enjoy each day.”
And, that’s what she has been doing.
I’ve never heard Helen ask, “Why me?” She just celebrates life and checks in on how her friends are doing. She truly is making the most of the time she has left and it inspires me not only on my bad days, but every day.
Helen has passed from this life since I wrote this. I’m heartbroken that my Helen isn’t here anymore. But, I’ll never forget the lessons she taught me about living and dying. On my bad days, per her advice, I will crawl to my chair and look outside and listen to the birds and look for the flowers. And, I will smile with thoughts of sweet Helen. And, it will have to be enough.
Read more of Ann’s contributions to AllMomDoes here.
