Turnabout Is Not Always Fair Play

I have spent most of the time on this blog exploring some of the issues related to death of the love of my life, Jesika. The few entries I have written have related to how I was feeling or how my life has changed or how I reacted to a certain event or occurrence. As a matter of fact, I had planned on writing an article outlining my reflections about leaving the apartment that Jesika and I shared. However, after giving it some thought, instead of talking about myself, I want to tell you about a dear friend of mine.

During the month of April, as the severity of Jesika’s medical condition began to unfold, my physical and emotional state began to unravel. I was so racked with stress and concern with Jesika that my body began to break down. I could barely sleep, my nose would bleed for an hour at a time, and on several occasions, I had people asking me if I wanted to go to the emergency room. On one day in particular, I went to work shortly after finally getting the definitive word that Jesika had late stage small cell ovarian cancer. Not a good idea. As I walked into the facility, with a towel pressed to my nostril to contain the bloody mess, my friend saw me and asked, “Kevin, are you OK?”.

Now I had my “official statement to coworkers regarding Jesika’s medical condition” down. I was ready to give them the “according to the American Cancer Society” response, but I couldn’t hold it in. I just blurted it out. “She has ovarian cancer.” My friend took me into a conference room, brought me a box of Kleenex and asked me, “Kevin, how are YOU doing?” I explained to her how Jesika’s health was failing, and how I didn’t know what I was going to do if she died. I told her how I felt like the very foundation of my life was being shaken. She in turn recounted her own experiences in losing of the love of her life after an unexpected devastating illness, and told me the angst and turmoil I was feeling was normal. She also told me that I couldn’t help take care of Jesika if I didn’t take care of myself. She asked me if I needed to see a doctor, and when I refused, she told me that I needed to go home and get some sleep and be at my strongest to help Jesika. And after Jesika died and all the drama with her family ensued, my friend told me that I needed to lean on my loved ones, and not to be afraid of the range of emotions I would feel in the coming days. When I told her that I was afraid to share some of the thoughts thrashing around in my mind because I didn’t want to upset or burden other people, she responded, “That’s all normal. I know exactly how you feel. I KNOW. So if you can’t tell anyone else, tell me.” And in the coming weeks, I did. During lunch breaks, my friend sat with me and bore witness to my grief and rage stricken brainstorms, and would provide me real and practical insight for coping with my loss. She would always say, “Me going through the loss in my life isn’t all bad, if God gives me the opportunity to help someone else going through the same thing. Kevin, one day you’ll meet someone who will need the same kind of help, and God will lead you to help them.”
Those words would prove to be almost prophetic.

When I arrived at work yesterday, I was told that my friend had endured another devastating tragedy the night before. I don’t wish to share exactly what happened out of respect for her privacy, but when I heard about it, the same sort of feelings I felt just over a month before rushed to my head. It just seems so unfair. Sometimes in life, there just doesn’t seem to be any balance. I see people who don’t treat others with respect and compassion prosper while those with the most loving, caring spirits are burdened with the most adversity. I don’t know what to make of it and doubt if I ever will.

But right now, I just want to focus on the task at hand. God has given me the opportunity to stand by someone going through a terrible tragedy. I wish it weren’t the case as I wouldn’t wish these types of events on my worst enemy, much less someone who has been such a good friend to me. It feels weird for me to even be in this position, because I have so many unresolved feelings as it relates to the losses in my life. But I say to my dear friend, please take care of yourself, physically and emotionally. Don’t be afraid to share your feelings and thoughts with people who you trust, and if I am one of those people, feel free to call on me. And most importantly, please don’t give up. Please take the time you need, and surround yourself with people who can support you when you feel unable to endure.

Honestly, I don’t know what else to say. My words are just synthesized blurbs made of all the advice I have I received in the past weeks. I don’t know if there is anything else to say. But I say to my dear friend, that whenever you are ready, and you feel up to it, I’ll be ready to listen.