My friend KC is 30 and she has breast cancer. At the time when I found out I thought she was 34/36 but no, she's 30 and that's less than two years older than me. Every day on my way to the office I pass where we used to work together and for several months I thought about just popping in with a box of chocolates or a pretty bouquet, shit I know I thought about at least calling her house to ask how she was doing. *poof* A year passes or maybe two and during that time I never picked up the phone to see how KC and her two children were holding up nor did I stop by the old workplace to drop off flowers. But I thought about it, and luckily when I finally did see KC for the first time since her diagnosis she seemed to understand and said that it was OK. She also told me that the community opened its arms and embraced her and provided some hope for her family with prayers, visits, and generous cancer care baskets. I sat across from her at a bistro table as she renewed my faith in humanity. She told me about days when she was sick from the chemo and didn't have the strength to lift her child and a complete stranger would knock on the door and bring her a basket of teas because they read her name on a cancer patient list. KC was touched every time that happened no matter how many times kindness repeated itself and she was reminded that people cared. She told me this in a way that made me appreciate the good in people for a change when today's media constantly streams negative images of Americans and neighbors and co-workers and families and couples, KC experienced a dose of what we could all use - love. Love for the human race and love for living.
KC taught me many lessons as an instructor and as a woman. This time she did it without even trying.
