kissa_bites | Oh God

I have to bury a child on Sunday. I don’t know her, but her grandmother is someone I respect. I’ve never met Allora, I’ve seen pictures and I’ve heard every word of her life in the last few months. I knew days after she was diagnosed with some obscure cancer and I ached for my friend. I’ve wanted to hold and cuddle this big, strange, batty woman, who many try to avoid because they don’t have the patience to deal with a “crazy lady”, for months. Today, I did. I wish I never had a reason to touch her, though I am one who touches easily and often. I don’t want to go on Sunday. I would do anything not to go. But I will. Because I respect this woman so very much and she needs to know and needs the energy to draw from. I wish I could curl up in a little ball and cry right now, but she’s still here, actually covering the telephones in my office while I go on lunch so she could get out of her life for one short hour. I don’t know how she can function right now, much less hold an intelligent conversation about that overpriced little daylight ranch on 42nd with the tiny kitchen and beautiful flowers. I can’t cry right now, because it isn’t fair to break her wall with my tears.
She was 12 years old.
My daughter is 9.
I hurt for my friend, my stomach is in knots and my head is throbbing. I could never be as strong as she is.
no comments are needed - i know