Tears for Breakfast

This morning I have learned that a friend called Karen has died after losing a battle to breast cancer. (this is a different friend to the one I referred to a couple of weeks ago).

A year ago today, I was bridesmaid with Karen at Janine's wedding (Janine was our mutual friend and main point of contact). She had just survived a mastectomy and we were not sure whether she would be able to wear the bridesmaid dress and make it to the wedding. She did both in style and did wonderfully, making a speech and looking gorgeous. She then underwent chemo and radiotherapy and we all held our breath, thinking that maybe she had beaten it.

About three weeks ago, a nagging ache and swelling in her arm provided the impetus to do a new round of scans. The cancer had spread through her body and her prognosis was awful. She has died in hospital in the last 24 hours leaving her lovely husband to bring up their two little girls (5 and 2).

I knew she was going rapidly down hill and as we took in the stunning mountain scenery at the weekend I felt a mixture of agitation and guilt that we could be enjoying so much LIFE, while a friend was rapidly facing the harsh reality of dying. In the same breath, I know that Karen, could she have talked to me, would have told us to take it all in and savour the life we have.

Over the last few days, I have written a number of letters to Karen in my head. It is my obscession to put things into words and I guess it has helped me to farewell her in my thoughts. I can't believe that we can go away for 3 months and a friends life can be snuffed out in that time with no inkling this was sitting in the wings when we left. It makes life seem so tenuous and for the moment at least, I am allowing myself to think about this. As a good friend reminded me only yesterday, it encourages me to think about the next life and to challenge my fears about dying.

As we pack up and leave Milan and turn our thoughts towards home, it is good to remember that we are only ever just passing through and as I stuff our suitcases to their limits, to remember that I can't take any of it with me.

It brings to mind another Leunig prayer:

There are only two feelings, Love and fear:

There are only two languages, Love and fear:

There are only two activities, Love and fear:

There are only two motives, two procedures,

two frameworks, two results, Love and fear,

Love and fear.

For now, I am doing battle with fear. But I have God, who is the source of all Love, to do battle with me.