Followers

16 October 2013

Cancer . . .

It's out in the stitching blogger community that Pumpkin, whose real name was Cathey, lost her valiant battle with cancer last week. It comes as a great shock to me and a great loss. Cathey was one of the first people to follow my blog, and I loved seeing her avatar on my "Recent Visitors" gadget. That doxie with the wagging tail . . . it made me happy. She was a nice lady. It hurts me that she's not here anymore, even though we were only connected through our blogs. I hurt for her son, and her husband. It's not fair he will not have his mom see him graduate high school, or dance at his wedding. As a mom, that hurts me, that terrifies me, and part of me thinks, why her? See, I have two high school friends who are also fighting this battle. One I have known since I was 4, who I used to sit in the back of our French IV class and goof off because we were both brilliant in French and didn't need to spend a lot of time reading about people in Paris wanting American jeans, and one I used to play soccer with and who I palled around in Materials Science class with; she used to call our teacher a monkey, I don't know why, but she did. We were all very close in my high school; it was a small town, and everyone knew everyone from childhood. Chelsea is 37, with 2 small children, and she is fighting her second round, Joey is 34. Young women with little kids who aren't done living, and they are fighting this . . . bullshit, hateful disease. My gramma fought it too, so did my MIL, but this isn't right. It's not fair. And I realize I am way too old to be still under the impression that life is fair, but it kills me that my friends worry how their husbands will care for their kids if they don't get rid of this cancer. No mom should have to worry about that. No dad should ever have to deal with it. And I'm angry because they couldn't save Cathey, and what if they can't save Chelsea, or Joey? Maybe it's not right that I say this. I'm probably breaching etiquette, but it hurts. Losing one good person makes the world a sadder place. And I wish Cathey would be the last mom we ever lose. RIP, Pumpkin, dear Cathey. Your family, especially Junior and your husband, are in my prayers. I hope that the wonderful memories of you help them get through this time, and I hope they know how many lives you touched and made better. Pat Brie for me. I know she's missed you. Farewell.

5 comments:

stitcheranon said...

Cathey was an amazing person and sadly, fighting cancer myself means I make friends with cancer and that means I lose friends too. You are right it isnt fair: it sucks and there are too many kids loosing their moms.

However, every lose means a bit more information, a bit more knowledge that leads to the hope that our children will never have to go through this. That is what keeps me going. If I had a choice of it being me or being one of my kids, I would got first everytime!

It sucks big time but it is life. No one lives forever sadly and Cathey went far too early. All we can do is put our anger and fear into raising the profile of this dreadful condition and kick it into touch xxxxxxx

Katie said...

Beautiful remembrance. I miss her immensely.

Katie said...

It truly is a beast. Praying for your young friends. Cathey is gone far too soon :/

Suzanne said...

I remember Brie too. That's how Cathey and I first connected.

Carol said...

Oh, Rachel...your post brought tears to my ears when I thought about Cathey patting her little Brie. She was such a fighter, wasn't she? I miss her terribly and will never forget her little Dachshund's waving tail. Hope your friends beat their cancers--it is just heartbreaking, especially in those so young.

I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can’t be helped--Frederick Perls