Grief

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

My neighbor, John, told me yesterday that his nephew and surrogate son, Richard, was recently diagnosed with noncurable late-stage terminal cancer. Everybody, including Richard himself, was caught off guard. John’s obvious distress and mine moved me to tears. Richard is only 53 years old and one of the nicest people. Until recently, he frequently was in our neighborhood. Lately, without dwelling on it, I’d not seen his big white truck rolling into or leaving John’s place.

Last year, Richard told me that he successfully overcame alcoholism in his twenties and thirties. I hadn’t known until yesterday that he was a lifelong smoker. John says that Richard still smokes routinely and adds that it no longer matters.

A few years ago, John lost his older brother to invasive and aggressive cancer. He moved that brother from Canada to Central Oregon to support him through the final months. Now, another one he’s close to is similarly going.

I’m peripherally involved, for often being across the street at John’s where I take my horses to graze on his pasture. Being there introduced me to John’s brother, Steven, and his nephew, Richard. Both these losses impact me, especially Richard whom I know well.

I’m finding that the loss of anyone beloved reminds me of my loss several years ago. My sister, Elaine was a handful in life. Only during her final years did I understand how close we were and how greatly I loved her. I’d be a better sister if more understanding could make it possible to back up and re-do the past. And similarly regarding my mom, I’d be a better daughter.

Loss is a hard teacher.

Macy’s has offered me extra working hours today and tomorrow. That’ll take my mind away from difficult topics. I will continue following Richard’s progress through John.

Dear Friends: The luck of the draw: our genes, parents, habits, and attitudes. Diana