A friend lost to cancer

Heather, a friend of ours from college, died last night. She had been battling breast cancer for 2 1/2 years. We were all friends our Freshman year and she was just one of those immensely likable people. Pictured above are her during the first month of school holding up a sign for some guy she had a crush on at the time; posing with me before one of our many jogs; and smiling with my young future husband (whose unique Etch-a-sketch watch I had forgotten about until I went to pull out that photo).

Heather had THE BIGGEST smile of anyone I've ever met. I am not just saying that because it is one of those things you say about people who've gone on to the other side. She was so smiley, and as I reread parts of her blog today, I saw evidence that she hadn't changed. That beautiful face was smiling back at me--along with her husband and two children, same ages as mine.

We haven't really kept in contact with her since college, but a mutual friend has kept us updated on her situation, and I looked at her blog from time to time. Reading through it was pretty surreal. At one point she had thought the cancer was gone only to find out it had come back in her lung, which was very serious. She talked of how she'd be starting chemotherapy all over again, and started listing side effects she'd soon be experiencing. Side effects I'm so familiar with, like tingling fingers, nausea, and horrible bone pain.

But I got a side effect she didn't. I'm cured.

It really isn't fair. I see her husband and those little children whom I've never met, and I weep. I don't have to imagine what it's like to find out you have cancer, because I've been there. I know what it's like to find out you're going to lose a family member to cancer, because I've been there too--three times. But I can't imagine what it's like to find out you're going to actually succumb to the disease.

One thing is clear from reading her blog, from talking to others who are battling cancer or who have survived it, and from reflecting upon having been through it myself: Whether you are ultimately lost to cancer or not, you can be "found" to it if you allow yourself. Acquiring a major disease is just one of life's opportunities that can be a gift. Not a gift that you take and say, "Hooray, it's just what I've always wanted!" It's more like a gift that you look at and say, "No thanks, I'd like to return this," or "Oh, this doesn't really fit me," or "Huh?"

But if you let it, it can teach you a few things, such as patience, humility, and compassion. From all appearances, Heather learned these things just as I did. I don't know why she got to go and I get to stay. I'm grateful we'll both get to see the big picture some day and then we'll understand.