Sometimes I feel like there’s worse things than death. Given all the treatments and the life that slowly erodes itself right under my feet, until the very next time I look down. As always I find less and less ground to hold me up. Whenever I grieve for friends, a part of me grieves for
Category: Death & Dying
I really like the metaphor of path rather than journey as a descriptive of how we move through our lives with stage IV breast cancer. I am borrowing “path” from Abigail Johnson, blogger and writer at nohalfmeasures.com, attorney, mom, wife. And my friend. We choose the people who walk beside us on the MBC path.
Abandoned, along withWhat no longerFinds use, I fill my arkWhile the flood, angryAnd possessed,Picks up the dropped broomsAnd sweeps us all away.If I could take all my thingsI could fill up the seasWith picturesWith memories. These barrenThings cannot reproduce.They’re useless to you,So die with me.There’s another vesselMore expansive than mineOne stolen from the earthItself –