For Annette, Who Lived

Today I said goodbye to a friend who has been a part of my village since I was very young. A woman who has been living with ovarian cancer for many years, and was one of the first to give me strength when I could not see the light at the end of my own treatment. Today she is surrounded by her family, wearing her red pajamas, looking at her Christmas tree through funny glasses, and facing her death with courage. I have always believed that to speak of cancer in the language of war is to deny that which is a part of you, and therefore hinder healing. But today it feels like a battle has been lost, as my friend awaits her turn to become a casualty to this war. For Annette: (because she will be WOO HOO'ING her way through the pearly gates) Life should NOT be a journey to the grave With the intention of arriving safely In an attractive and well preserved body, But rather to skid in sideways, Chocolate in one hand, Martini in the other, Body thoroughly used up, Totally worn out and screaming "WOO- HOO what a ride!"