She writes from waiting rooms, literal and figurative. Her updates paint a portrait that but for a few brushstrokes could be my own.
There isn’t a word she shares that doesn’t make me think—sometimes it’s Eugene in the late 70s, other times it’s different track meets for different high schools and other times still it is: Am I grateful enough?
It’s morbid and pointless, but when someone is going through something you imagine what if it was me? Or maybe that’s just me. I find myself searching so deep, wishing for something else that I could do, some combination of words that might make her situation not so. Even this post, I struggle because is this self indulgent, does this help in any way? The little girl in me thinks maybe any effort expended in thinking of her might change things. The other side of me stews. I am impotent to do anything but post comments on her posts.
Her last update: They found cancer in Ransom’s lungs.
No more words.
Just quiet, fervent hoping that there is still a way.
Tagged: friendship, grief, Love
oh. there just aren’t words. tears and love to that mama.
Oh, I wish there was something to say other than Aimee and Ransom and her whole family are in my thoughts and that I’m sending fierce love and, as you say, fervent hope.
It doesn’t matter that I do not know Aimee. She is a mother who is hoping and praying for her son. I am a mother, too. So I hope and pray right along with her. Love and peace to your friend and her son.
I am praying for Aimee and Ransom. Sending all my thoughts and love.
I am praying, too, for Aimee and Ransom.
Just one more long distance hug for both of them. Wishing them all the best.
I have been the daughter and the sister in my family’s fights with cancer. Being the mama is my greatest fear. Saying many extra prayers for Aimee and Ransom. Prayers for health, and comfort. For smiles, fewer fears and fewer tears. I hope they can feel the love you have for them and that it helps.
(((hugs)))