Go to The Impossibility Of Knowing
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Azur
I feel for you Azur. When my late wife had cancer, the surgeon told her straight. She'd been wheeled into a side room, and I was standing on her left side, as was the surgeon. Through the windows I could see the rest of the ward and the traffic outside.
When he told her that it had spread to her brain and there was nothing that could be done, she sat matter-of -factly nodding as she was told that she had 18 months to live. I was the one who was sobbing, and the one who got the disgusted look from the surgeon. It was the last time I shed tears, as we both got on with the facts of life and death.
One thing: We were told by the psychiatrist who was preparing my wife for death - how ironic is that - not to expect any emotion from her 13 year old son. At that age it doesn't seem to penetrate and even when she died he didn't seem to care.
Take care Azur.
posted by
johnmacnab
on December 19, 2009 at 7:23 AM
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Yes, how we all shy away from all mention of death. Some moths after my father died, my youngest daughter (aged about 12) suddenly burst out crying, "I didn't know he was dying. I never got to say goodbye." That loss was really painful for her, and I thought - I should have told her.
posted by
Rockingrector_retd
on November 24, 2009 at 12:40 PM
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Azur, acceptance is a great thing to come to at times like these.. your friend knows you are there in spirit, and it's wonderful that there is banter and a bit of laughter too.. I wish you strength, to be strong for all of you ... and for the Unsaid novel, all the luck there is.
posted by
mneme
on November 23, 2009 at 3:13 AM
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How very sad! But, wow on Unsaid! I am so so stoked for that! It has to do well, it just has to! sam
posted by
sam444
on November 21, 2009 at 3:00 PM
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Given your fantastic writing style on Blogit alone
I'm not at all surprised about the competition result or the offer
posted by
malcolm
on November 21, 2009 at 10:14 AM
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Azur, it is very well written and the containment of its sorrows and
comprehension and worldly rhythms, is heartbreaking. I am so sorry and would pray for a world in which we all had the money to do what should be done in a more perfect world.
I love the writers who write of life's joys and treasures and those, too, who write of its sorrows and inheritances. It is all too much and we are not enough to hold it all, but we just never stop trying to embrace it all. Who can stop but the fear filled? We are not like that. I hug you, little sister.
posted by
benzinha
on November 20, 2009 at 8:29 PM
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I do hope that ou winthat prize and the writing Job sounds great
It seems that you are giving your friend much comfort and it is being returwould send raned. Bless all of you and I would send rain to my lovely country ....if I could.
posted by
Kabu
on November 20, 2009 at 7:56 PM
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Beautifully written, Azur. Perfect. Just enough patience in it,
just enough acceptance. It's clear your friend is still here, still connecting, offering her support to others, whatever she can do. You've got to put this in your work somewhere.
I hope you win that prize! 
posted by
Pat_B
on November 20, 2009 at 2:11 PM
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Azur
That had to be tough to write about. I lived that drawn out time of hope for four months,and every day I nursed her, my wife Joyce, and then the brain cancer won. It was nice to read your positive note of a chance to write of a man with a story.Much luck with that luv
posted by
WileyJohn
on November 20, 2009 at 1:16 PM
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I don't know what to say about all this except that it is very well written. It is so hard to deal with end of life--both for the life ending and for those who love and cherish. My thoughts and prayers are for all involved.
posted by
TAPS.
on November 20, 2009 at 11:49 AM
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