I'm totally slacking...I know it.

It's been a while since I've been here to write. I wish I could say that nothing had happened since the first week of May, but I'd just be lying to you.

In the middle of May I found out through a third party friend that someone I've known for about 20 years was diagnosed with a brain tumor. I consider myself much too young to know people with such serious illness...I know better as I've lost people I love more than myself at ages when death seems a distant event.

Within days I found out that he was speaking and I called him hospital room hoping to speak to him - to let him know that I was saying a prayer for him, thinking of him, whatever I could to convey that he was on my mind. I tried his room, but got no answer.

I should say that calling this hospital was no easy thing for me as two people I loved died of cancer in this same hospital. Just calling it brought back memories of sitting at my aunt's bedside and the crushing moment when I realized my aunt Gloria no longer knew me....
Crap. And again that moment of not being able to take in air and feeling like the world stops is back. I feel pressure inside and I don't know how to let it out.
No one told me or her that the cancer we'd just discovered in her breast had advanced to her brain already. This brillant, loving brain who had been there for my kinder graduation (when my mother couldn't be) no longer remembered the neice who loved her more than she loved herself.

A few years later a college friend was diagnosed with cancer in her leg. She lost her leg and we made pirate jokes - just happy she'd still be alive. We thought of ways she could save on clothes and amazing stories we could make up to explain her missing limb.
And then the doctors again told us about spreading cancer and just like that Deanna was gone.

I hate this hospital.
It is the physical manifestation of grief to me. So calling this hospital brought back a lot of pain, but I did it because it was more important to let my friend know that he was on my mind.

I was afraid to call over and over because he was sick and I thought he might be resting. So I waited a few days.
And then I got an email that Jules had died. And just like that he's gone. Blink.

He was diagnosed with a brain tumor or tumors and was gone in one week. One week. Jules was the sweetest person - never heard him say anything bad about anyone. He wanted justice for everyone and he always had a smile. When I met him I was filled with rage and angst at everyone, but really only at my dad and stepdrag. And Jules? He was filled with hope and love and kindness.


So I've been thinking....and each time I've lost someone I loved, my aunt, my very young cousin, my very old great grandmother and far too many friends, I think about how I have to change some things.
Oh, I make lists of things I'd like to accomplish. And I do many of those things like getting my degree and going to graduate school.

But.

But there are other things, other lists, that I need to do and stop hiding from/making excuses for. And I've taken a step towards one of those majors goals today. I don't want my love for my aunt, my cousin Jonathan, my friends and of course Jules, to be wasted. There's something in the sadness I feel beyond just being said.