Cordelia

Today I visited a dying friend.

I'm not gonna lie, I was scared. I had been putting off a visit to her when she was in a nursing home because I don't think I'm good in these types of situations. I hate going to hospitals. I probably have issues. To me there is an eerie feeling. Sometimes it's too quiet. Sometimes you see people upset and you can't help but think the worst. I don't like it.

But mostly, I was a coward not to visit her sooner. My friend has a brain tumor. She is 70 years old. She is always serving others. She would give rides to people who needed them, she'd work at the Temple, she'd always take in a meal to someone. There is this one woman in our congregation who was in an accident long ago and is now in a wheelchair. My friend and her little old self would pick this woman up for church and push her around for the entire block of meetings. This woman is truly an angel. She is like a grandma to me, although she once told me she thought of me like her daughter. Truthfully, that means more to me now than it did at the time. She and I like to talk about the simple pleasures in life: bargain shopping and food. This woman is always put together and has great taste. She really knows how to make things beautiful too. When I started a Ladies Night Out for my congregation, she was always excited to come and enjoy good food and good company. She often said we should have started it sooner. It was a great way for the 'spring chickens' and the 'fall hens' to mix and mingle. Those fall hens sure know a lot about life.

So when I volunteered to take dinner to this woman and her husband I had to mentally prepare myself. I knew she was nearing the end. We were told that when she had visitors, she rallied. I'm not gonna lie, I looked for excuses not to go. I didn't want to remember seeing her in that state. I knew very well it might be the last time I saw her in this life.

When I walked into her home, her hospital bed was in a room facing the entrance through french doors into her garden. I saw a bald head poking through the pillow tops and a very frail woman underneath a lavender sheet. She didn't look like the friend I knew. Some of her hair on the left side of her head was spared from the chemo and radiation therapy. She had not a spot of makeup on. The bone structure of her face was very prominent but despite her age and her sickness, I still thought she looked beautiful. And when I saw her sparkling blue eyes light up, there she was, there was my friend.

I'm not sure what came over me but all of a sudden, I knew what I needed to do. I smiled and greeted her, no fear, no worry, no emotions creeping to the surface, just peace. Here was my friend. And it had been too long since I last saw her. I immediately took her hand, kissed her cheek, gave her a hug the best I could. "I can do this," I thought, "I can do this for her."

I spent a half hour with her. I noticed she had her nails done and told her they looked nice. To be honest, I couldn't understand much of what she was trying to say. Much of it sounded like mumbling and I wondered if she was wandering in and out of lucidity. She talked a long while and I listened. A few times she tried to ask me questions and I felt bad that I could only say, "I don't know." To which she always smiled and offered a weak laugh. A few times her hands started shaking a lot and she tried to squeeze them together to get them to stop but she had no strength to. So I held them tight for her. I touched her arm the way Jadon likes me to as he's falling asleep and mostly listened to her, smiled and nodded. A few times she looked worried about something so I reassured her that she was okay, that she was alright.

My favorite was when I told her I brought her some spinach and cheese filled ravioli with a homemade butter and cream Alfredo sauce. She closed her eyes and savored it in her mind. I hope it tasted as good as she imagined it. {It was pretty darn good I have to admit.} And did I mention that Jadon came with me? He begged me to come and I wasn't sure at first but I thought it would be good for him to bring dinner. He was so excited and helpful with carrying the dishes to the door. He sat nicely and didn't startle or flinch or show any reaction toward my friend's condition. He treated her just the same, told her he was turning 7 in two weeks and starting the 2nd grade on Tuesday. She loved it. Then her husband showed him the garden and the grandkids' room while I sat with her. I was really proud of him.

When it came time to leave, I didn't say good-bye. I told her I would see her later and that next time I would bring her a cannoli from Arrivederci's. You know, at the last Ladies' Night Out we were both able to attend, well before she was diagnosed, she was telling us about how her doctor had adjusted her medications. She asked him how long she would have to take one of the new meds to which he reliped, "For the duration." We all laughed about the doctor's choice of words but the next day, I sent her a message:

Dear Cordy,

I'm glad we will be friends for the 'duration' and beyond.

I love you.

emily