My best friend is dying. She doesn't have much time but at the same time she is dying in slow motion. How that is possible I don't understand, not that I understand any of it. I don't even know for sure if I accept it, I mean I think I do I don't ever let my mind wander into the possibility that she will be the first person ever to beat the Glioma that is growing on her brain stem. Maybe it's not so much that I don't accept it maybe it's just that I know no matter how many times I say it out loud, think about it or write about it I know that my heart will never be prepared for her to exist only in our memory and hearts. No one is, I don't care what the circumstances are god himself cannot cushion that blow. Speaking of god, I hope he forgives me because I pray to him that it's quick. Sometimes I think that is very selfish of me. That I have no right to want the life she is clinging so hard to, the short life of 36 years that she is not ready to lose to end sooner than later. To want her two sons to lose their mother any quicker than they already will. She is paralyzed on her left side, confined to a wheelchair and needs total care. Some days are better than others, sometimes she's more like herself sometimes she's like an alzheimers patient. Those days are the worst, because not only is it heartbreaking it is also exhausting and quite frankly annoying. There I said it. With all the other fun emotions of being sucked by your face into a vortex of horrible heartbreak and sadness with it also comes annoyance, irritation and the best one of all, resentment. They are genuine feelings of annoyance and resentment, don't get it twisted, it annoys me that she so demanding and does not seem to care or notice that my life is busy like all of our lives with the mundane things we have to do on a daily basis but of course she is. Her life is the same everyday. She is wheeled to the bathroom and helped on the toilet then she's wheeled to table to eat then wheeled to the front porch to watch people carry on with their daily lives. That was her life, until January 14 2013 when she woke up and was no longer able to move the left side of her body. Of course she's self absorbed because that is all her life is anymore, stuck in a chair with nothing to do but think about what she has lost and what she will miss. She will never see her boys grow up, she will not dance at her boys weddings, she will never meet her first grandchild. Her youngest son is only 17 months old. He will not remember her.
There is a meaning behind me calling this blog the third bench. We grew up around the corner from each other which was down the street from a nice big pretty park. I don't know who actually started this 'tradition' but during our teenage years whenever we were going to break up with a boyfriend we would always take them for a walk to the park and sit them on the third bench and say good bye. If god told me today that it was up to me, that I could wheel her to the third bench and end her suffering and say good bye. Would I do it? Would I have the strength to let my beautiful butterfly out of her glass jar. I hope so. I do. I love her so much and she has always been such a important part of my life that I would rather suffer the pain of losing her than to have her suffer anymore or any longer than she already has and I know it will only get worse from here but I will see her thru. I will go to the third bench with her and I will watch my beautiful butterfly soar
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