So I have these three friends. Two of them know each other… and I’m starting to think they’re all three in cahoots.
(I CAN’T. WE ARE NOT DISCUSSING IT TODAY. Anyway…)
The reason for all these unfounded claims is that on any given day of the week, one of them has called, sent me an email, found me resources, or given me some version of the shirt off their back.
It’s as if they got together and decided, we’re going to keep a smile on this woman’s face. And they have.
Everyone supports people in their own way.
I mentioned a bunch of those people in the last post. And there’s a lot more people I could have mentioned if I hadn’t run out of steam – that post will likely still happen.
The reason I’m singling these three people out is because of what they have taught me, recently or over time, about being a good friend to someone who has cancer or any other serious disorder or disease.
Because when I think about what I thought was being a good friend to a friend who had cancer, I realize now that I was miles off course, despite all my good intentions.
Not beating myself up over it. From what I’ve heard, I probably did okay.
Just making a note so I can do better in the future.
Take Kathy. That’s her, second from the right, being a bad ass because apparently that’s what she does all day long.
Great panel #championCapitalists with @gordondaugherty @janryan @ChiefHotMomma @CircularB pic.twitter.com/1GguSImApu
— Katie Fang (@katie_fang) April 15, 2016
She’s the Chief Hot Momma, Kathy Korman Frey, over at Hot Mommas Project, easily one of my top 3 favorite organizations I’ve ever worked with in my life.
We began our friendship over a work relationship, having been previously acquainted. And it grew to be a serious kinship. We were out of touch for a while, and then became reacquainted right before I found out I had Lymphoma.
Right away, Kathy began looking up great information and sending it to me. Almost every day she sent an encouraging word, updated me on some news, even rescued me at least twice from some pretty tight spots.
No one’s keeping score, but I doubt I’ve been as good a friend to her. Not on purpose, she’s just so together that she hasn’t had a crisis I could even help with :).
Then there’s Ify.
(She’s the gorgeous creature in the middle.)
@Tinu awww hugs!!! (And hugs to @dcIfy!) #cityexperts #googlecityexperts @googlelocaldc pic.twitter.com/JKYyERx384
— Corrie Davidson (@CorrieDavidson) May 14, 2014
I met her at a conference where she was not only the only other black woman in my age group with a cane, she was also of direct Nigerian descent. I was thrilled out of my mind that she even exists.
Ify had her own battle with disorders and conditions somewhat similar to the ones I have dealt with. Out of respect for her medical privacy, I don’t want to be specific.
Seriously are people allowed to be this beautiful? In public?
Leading up to my diagnosis and since, Ify and I didn’t get to talk frequently but when we did.
Wow.
Beyond the bonding over both of us being spoonies, Ify taught me so much about how to bear pain with grace, how to elevate my political discourse online, and how to aspire to my highest goodness without losing myself.
She’s one of those people who… every lengthy conversation you have with them is life-changing. And they are humbly, blissfully unaware of how magnificent they are.
Certain circumstances don’t allow us to talk often, nor have we seen much of each other lately. But somehow I always feel like she’s near.
And like Sula and Nel (without the drama), we pick up our friendship wherever it lay when we are back in touch.
I’m getting misty….
Which makes this a good time to talk about Hessie. That’s her in the picture below, which I stole from MillennialCEO.
The lovely Hessie Jones (Photo by EricBrazier.com)
Hessie Jones is one of the best cancer side effects ever, LOL.
What I mean by this is that she’s one of the friends I became closer to because of this particular crisis.
She saw that I needed someone to help me maintain a sense of normalcy and slid right into that spot. Almost every single day, Hessie writes me an email.
These aren’t forwards of motivational stuff or inspirational Bible quotes, although that would rock too.
The way Hessie’s notes are special … it’s hard to put into words. It’s like every day she gives me a gift of herself. Some are recountings of something important that happened to her that day. She shares with me ways that she ponders over life and its many choices. She uplifts me with good news and ….
There’s something incredibly soothing about the way she corresponds with me. And I’d save each unread email until I couldn’t stand it any longer.
I tried to wait for a moment when I felt lost, or the surrealness of everything was too much. Because short or long, simple or complex, her correspondence represented something new blossoming; our friendship, her growth, a revelation she had to give me.
Yeah. Those three are conspiring to bring all the sleeping parts of me back to life…
Next time…. what life is like between Chemo treatments. Hint: I haven’t been able to finish writing that post because of reasons.