Last summer, I heard that she was back in the hospital. I drove the two hours back home to go and visit her, but she was falling asleep while I was there so I didn't stay long. I cried the whole way back to the city, because she was in really rough shape and I thought it was the end. This woman is amazing. She always has a super positive attitude, and she is always smiling no matter what. I know that she has to stay strong for her family, but I can't believe that she's this tough.
She got out of the hospital a few weeks after I saw her, and she seemed to be back to normal. A couple of weeks ago, she went back in.
Now, usually, my best friend doesn't talk about her illness. He keeps it all bottled up inside and I have to blatantly ask him how she is. This time, he asked me to come and see her. That alone scares the hell out of me. Even in high school, when I lived a few minutes away, he never asked me to go and see her. I did, but that was just because I wanted to. The fact that he's asking me to do this makes me think that he knows it's even worse this time.
I agreed to head down there today, but I couldn't figure out anything nice to do for the family. So I baked cookies. He has three younger brothers, and I know that none of them bake. Somehow, it seemed like a nice thing to do at the time. Now, I keep thinking that I should do more. But what can I do when I'm this far away?
Those boys depend on her so much. I don't know what's going to happen if she dies. And I'm scared to go and see her because last time she couldn't even hold her head up. I won't be alone this time, but I don't know if her son's presence will make it better or worse.
I'm really bad in these stiuations, guys. I'm that awkward person that makes a joke that makes things worse. And I feel kind of stupid showing up with a few dozen cookies and being like, "sorry your mom's brain tumor is back. Have some baked goods and it will all be better. They're chocolate chip!" Because that won't help anything.
And now I'm thinking about it too much, like always. I'm scared. I can't even begin to understand how terrified those boys are. Why do these things always happen to the nicest people?
Sorry for the downer of a journal. I just wanted to get all of this off of my chest, because I know that I can't really talk to him about it. How could I vent about how worried I am when he's probably a thousand times more afraid than I am? It seems kind of selfish. And by kind of, I mean really freaking selfish.
To lighten up the mood of this entry, here's this:
