Sharing at the Buffet

Breakfast went well. We met at the hotel, took advantage of the buffet and sat and talked for an hour and a half. We shared our stories about cancer and how it claimed the lives of our respective spouses.

Janet had lung cancer. She had been smoking for years. Both of them had been smokers. One of her doctors missed the cancer. When Janet complained of a pain in her back seven months earlier, the doctor told her it was all in her head, to quit her job and get into a profession that would make her happier. Fast forward seven months and the diagnosis, along with a life sentence, was handed down. Janet had eight to twelve months to live. She thought she was stronger than her cancer and when the doctor asked her what made her think she would beat the odds, she replied, “Because he can’t raise these two kids on his own.” Sadly, he has been raising his two kids on his own for the past three years.

I told him about Chris, about the way we came home from Los Angeles full of hope for our futures, our newfound love for Boston propelling us into life. Fast forward four months to Chris’ diagnosis which lead to a fourteen month battle for his life for him and a fourteen month battle against my own menacing panic.

I shared with him the tale of Chris’ last moments and how I talked him through to the end, hoping he trusted that we all really wanted him to go, to escape the pain and the fear, even though the thought of his not being in our lives would forever destroy our lives as we knew them.

He listened, becoming teary-eyed. He understood the love, the fear and the loss that I and the others left behind by Chris’ death now understand. We understood each other as we sat there sharing our hurt and our wonder with one another.

During those seventy-five minutes, sitting in the hotel restaurant with it’s fancy white linen tablecloths, tapestry carpeting and chandeliers, we talked about our beliefs concerning the dead, spirit communication and the ever-mysterious “veil” and found that we are in a similar place as far as our beliefs go. We want to believe and sometimes we do believe and sometimes things happen that make denying those beliefs absolutely impossible.

I’m still processing this morning’s encounter. At some point, I’m sure I will come to rest on it’s purpose and on ways my thinking has expanded as a result. I wonder if and hope that he found some comfort in knowing that somebody he knows also knows something about what he has and continues to go through.

PS…the guy from work continues to be like Chris in so many ways.