talisman

Ransom
(yashica mat-124, film)

when ransom was first diagnosed with cancer, this very sweet mom (who i have never met) sent this charm to me, completely out of the blue and unexpectedly. i was flabbergasted by such a thoughtful gift. how amazing that another person, a virtual stranger really, understood what my Boob meant to me :)

i have worn it ever since, and take it off only to shower. it is the first thing my hand searches for in the morning, making sure it is still there. i fiddle with it, unconsciously rubbing the "r" against that word "love". it is my reassurance. twice i thought i'd lost the necklace, once in sleep, convinced it had broken off, only to remember i'd removed it to shower the night before and forgotten to replace it around my neck. on both occasions, i was convinced it was the universe or God telling me to guard my heart and prepare for the inevitable.

his tumors are growing so fast. i hate them and grapple after them, willing them to go soft and shrink again, as if my hands belonged to a magician. they fit now in the palm of my hands. they protrude from his neck. what are they doing in his liver and his spleen?

i had (and still have) a horrible migraine. i couldn't sleep for it last night, and drifted off for 30 minute intervals only to wake and fight to find a comfortable position. at one point, i woke and in half sleep, went to scratch the back of my neck.

then i heard the sound. the tiny "snap" of something breaking, the tension of something i cherish just before it comes apart, coming apart. the necklace.

in the dark i fumbled, dry eyed (tears not an option with the migraine) to find the charm, and it was found. i carefully placed it on the bathroom counter, leaving a note for G who would be up for work before me as it was my day off, telling him "it" had happened. that this talisman of protection had done the one thing i had hoped it never would. it was that one sign that for me, was my sign.

so, i was not surprised when he woke me at 7AM to let me know Ransom couldn't finish his breakfast and had to be cajoled into eating it.

but no vomiting, no pain, and he readily downed a biscuit. i know it is coming too soon. it is time to tell him it's okay and let go of the words. stop typing.

just be in this, with him.