The Beast Hates To Let Go

I'm still living with cancer. In fact, I'm not so sure that once you're in this world, you're ever allowed to leave it. This beast hates to let go. Hates to move on. So it finds new ways to dig into your soul and squeeze it dry.

I did what I said I would do. I marched into our closets and, piece by piece, I folded Leroy's cancer clothes until I was looking at a mountain of pants and shorts and shirts. A patchwork quilt of his life in cancer world.

The dark blue pants he was wearing the evening we went to the emergency room, when they found the brain tumor.

The athletic sweats he asked me to get him for his rehab appointments, and the t-shirts to go with them. They were comfortable, and it is important to feel good when you're learning to walk again.

The shorts ... the hardest part, folding the shorts. Summer clothes. His favorite season. A final season.

I packed up the clothes, loaded them into the car, and drove to the donation center. Hours later, it was all I could do not to drive back to find those clothes again.

Had I given away a part of Leroy I wasn't prepared to let go of? Or have I finally learned how to show the beast who's the boss?

-- Laurie

7:00 AM ET | 12- 2-2008 | permalink

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