...and I'm angry.
I'm not angry at the cancer that has been eating her insides for the past couple of years while she's tried chemo cocktail after cocktail to try to prolong her life.
My anger right now is directed at her.
I have had hope since the beginning of her cancer "adventure," I have hoped alongside her, we have all sat around and hoped.
On her last day in the hospital, on the day she was being moved to hospice, I cried. I thanked her for everything, awkwardly, and I hugged her.
I thought that might be our goodbye.
But I am visiting her almost every day in hospice. I'm mad at her for leaving. I need her as a friend, the world needs her to keep doing her good work, her family needs her. How can she leave us? I'm not crying for her.
Also, I feel awkward in hospice. Do I let her get her rest, or tire her out with stories that I hope entertain her? What does she need to rest up for? Are we quiet or do we act normal to make her feel like she's not in a place where people go to die?
How does this play out?
I read a pamphlet about watching someone die slowly and it made me a little less perturbed but not much.
I'll tell you what, she sure is handling this with a lot more grace and dignity than I am. Because I leave hospice and I'm foot-stomping, fast-driving pissed off.