a piece from the past

My mom called me the other night, the sound of stifled tears didn't last long. Her young robust cat that she rescued a few years ago had slipped away in the car as she was racing him to the vet. He had a massive tumour on the heart and we knew it was only a matter of time (at least I did...)

Her biggest issue question was "why?". To her, it appeared that he was improving after the new supplements kicked in. He was back to eating, socializing, then it was over - just like that.

As I tried to explain my take on the situation, it brought me back to a familiar place where I would rather not be.

I have stored these stories for way too long, so I feel motivated to share.

I recall this particular memory one day at the Cross Cancer Clinic (this is where Kali used to go before Stollery housed their own Peds Oncology clinic). Way too many memories at that place (most that I wish would vanish entirely and let me be at peace).

My dear friend was there with her baby girl. She leaned over to me and stuck out her little arms (there's an invite), so off we went for a tour around our second home.

I heard them calling for her, including her mother but gosh she was so cute and we were having fun looking at the Sesame Street Wall that I did not see the point of bringing her back. Eventually we were busted. As we walked back ever so slowly back to clinic I met up with Gord and Kali and our discussion to each other went something like this.... "She looks SO GOOD. Her hair is growing back, cheeky as ever. She needs to be the mascot for this place as she is always happy. I think she's gonna make it..."

You probably know where this is going.

About one hour following that conversation, my friend learned that her child had relapsed and treatment would follow immediately. It was time to pack again. This was something mom was all to familiar with - living in the hospital for months at a time.

3 days after treatment started (chemo had not disabled her yet), she took her first steps (attached to her little IV pole). It's moments like this that give loved ones a false sense of security (hence the cat...).

Our little mascot passed away in her daddy's arms the next day as he rocked her. He was still uttering comments of disbelief, un-accepting of her fate.

Her funeral was in the afternoon. Her bed of rest was a small wicker basket that Dad carried out of the funeral parlour. She was 14 months old.

That morning another young girl was buried. She was 16.

Her wish was to meet (and potentially have a dinner date with) the lead singer of a band that was on tour and scheduled to play in Edmonton. I wont name who, but lets put the category comparable to Jonas Brothers (11-17 year old female demographic). This is now dating back 9 years.

That day the boys were in town awaiting their sweetheart with 10 front seat tix (for her and 9 friends), back stage passes, and a private dinner with the love of her life.

Instead they switched plans and played at her funeral.

We just don't know what hand will be dealt to us. referring back to my blog about "rejuvenation", I learned from a friend that all we can do is ask for Grace to get us through these unexplainable times.

Another day, I will share more.

Have a great day!