—Memories—
At this point, I think all of us know someone who had or has cancer.
—This story took place more than fifteen years ago—
I had a friend of mine at work die from cancer.
We worked together for more than ten years.
We could cut up and keep each other laughing for hours. We could also sit at a table in the breakroom and not say a word to each other for the whole lunch hour.
She told me that was because she and I felt comfortable around each other.
I’m guessing that she was born in the fifties — one of the most excellent times in American history, in my opinion. The fifties; a time that reminds me of good ol’ American apple pie.
She told me that she was in an all-girl gang back in Chicago when she was growing up. I couldn’t imagine her being in one, though.
With a grin on her face, she said, “Yea, we wore leather jackets and everything.”
Yes, she was a Northerner — a Yankee.
She got married to a man in the military, and they wound up in Huntsville, Alabama, which is where I would meet her.
She was very quiet around everyone else, but she and I were buddies. She would talk to me, and I would talk to her.
Like I said initially, we could cut up together, talk, or go a whole lunch hour without saying a word because we were comfortable around each other.
She left work one day and went home to find her husband on the floor dead— She became a widow.
I went to the funeral, of course. It was the first funeral I had ever gone to where the person got cremated— I remember wondering if it was a Northern thing.
She and I would then talk about how grocery stores didn’t sell anything in “single person” size. Instead, everything from bread to cereal was in “family size.”—I was a single bachelor and knew this all too well.
I remember when I found out she had cancer.
She came to my office to tell me personally because she didn’t want me to hear it through the grapevine. I had already heard, though.
She told me that she had seen a preacher and “Said that prayer that you say to get Saved.” Being faced with death makes you plan for what happens next after you die—I know this all too well.
The fact is, when you do get Saved, you find yourself on cloud nineteen—way past cloud nine. And for her, she was on cloud nineteen. I know because it was important enough for her to tell me that she got Saved.
She was a person of few words—to most.
The cancer was so bad that she didn’t even receive chemo or radiation treatments.
I visited her at her home.
I asked if she could have anything in the world, what would it be. She said, “A good Chicago hot dog, or a pizza from UNO’s in Chicago.” —She swears that they have the best pizza.
She said she made her a hot dog at home but threw it up—The cancer had made its way to her stomach, and she couldn’t keep anything down.
I stayed as long as I could with her that day. I knew it would be the last time I saw her alive. I hugged her and told her that I loved her. She said she loved me too—I went back to work a more mature person that day—a wiser person.
I’ve always thought that if I ever get to Chicago, I would eat a slice of pizza from Uno’s for her.
She slipped into a coma and died shortly after our last meeting.
She weighed less than eighty pounds.
She, too, was cremated, like her husband.
At the funeral, her little brother gave a eulogy about his big sister that lasted two hours. How proud he was of his big sister.
People from all over America showed up to pay their respects.
The Southeast was there; the Northeast was there, and even people from the Western Part of America were there. She had made enough of an impact on each of their lives that they felt they needed to show their respects.
Her brother asked if anyone had anything to say about his big sister.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I stood up. I had to say something about my friend. I could’ve told people that she had gotten Saved. I could have talked about how she and I could hold a conversation for an hour. I could’ve said a lot. But, instead, I thought about her saying that she and I were comfortable enough with each other to sit and not say anything.
…And I simply said, “She was a good person to take a break with at work.”
