Falling in Love with the Sun

One of our staff members at work is dying.  Her cancer was in remission when she was hired 10 years ago.  Last year in early fall, it reared its ugly head again and this time it was tenacious, vicious, aggressive -- and bullied her until it became clear that it would win its evil battle.  Today, a few of us from the office went to visit her - to say goodbye.  This woman with whom we have shared work, staff meetings, lunches, coffee breaks, and plenty of laughter....  this woman with a heart of gold who always had a positive word and a compliment for everyone...  this woman for whom work and co-workers gave her life purpose, second only to her daughter and grandchildren...  this woman who does not want to die....  is dying.  Four of us stood around her bed in her condo, with her daughter nearby, as she gasped for breath, and became alternately agitated and then so quiet that at one point I thought she was gone.  We held her hands and rubbed her legs and arms, and spoke to her.  She knew we were there.  She tried to speak.  But it was unintelligible -- kind of like she was reciting the vowels.  I think she was saying I love you.  We told her we loved her and that we would miss her.  We cried.  We said goodbye.  And when we left we knew we had seen her for the last time.

On the way back to the office, from my vantage point in the back seat of my co-worker's car, I looked at the orange and red leaves starting to fall from the trees.  I watched children playing at recess in a school yard.  I felt the warmth of the sun through the window and everything was vivid and clear and I thought about Janet who would never see the sun again, never feel its warmth, never see the sights I was taking in as we drove.   I looked up at the sky and remembered the way it felt to be in the back seat as a kid when my parents were driving and tried to remember what it felt like to not even know how to drive and to just be lost in my own thoughts, watching the world go past, totally at the mercy of my parents' wishes and schedule.  Not in charge, not in control, no responsibility, just following.  That seems like a long time ago - it was a long time ago.  Then again, how in heaven's name, I wondered, has it come to this?  To be a woman in her early 50's saying goodbye to a dying friend in her early 60's, and feeling like it is just too darn soon.  I fell in love with the sun at that moment which was shining brilliantly on a perfect fall day. 


When we got back to the parking lot at work we hugged each other goodbye, knowing we had just shared a profound moment.  As I jumped into my car, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket.  I reached in, flipped it open and saw a text from my daughter, Julia.  "Mom - do u want 2 meet for sushi at 2?  My treat?"  "U bet!" I texted back immediately.  We sat together in a warm, Japanese restaurant, sun streaming in through the window,  drank green tea, talked about her boyfriend and school and  - you know, stuff - and ate sushi.  She picked up the tab and we walked arm in arm back to our cars.  I fell in love with the sun for the second time that day.