The New Year 2009

I arrived at Kathy’s house on the 5th of January. She was sitting in her living room and when I came through the door, she had a blank look on her face. Her scleras were yellow and her skin at first glance appeared tanned. When she saw Myra follow me through the front door, she asked, “How did you two get in contact?” I responded, “We have our ways.”

Myra stayed and chatted with us for a few minutes and then gracefully made her departure. We had discussed Kathy’s condition on our drive from the airport. Just 5 days earlier, they had celebrated the new year together. Myra shared with me that Kathy had eaten very little and seemed winded if she walked any distance.

I sat next to Kathy and looked her square in the eyes. She looked down and with a soft quiet tone said, “Bette, I am very sick. I don’t think I am going to a make it through this one.” I said, “Kathy, I know.” “I have noticed that you have been getting confused.” Then I began to cry. Kathy said, “Please, don’t cry.” “When David was dying, I wished I would have talked more about death with him.”

My heart was heavy as she proceeded to talk about her symptoms and what the future might hold for her. Just as quickly as the conversation started, it ended with little Shayne coming in the front door from school. Further discussion would have to wait until we had private time together. She was sheltering her pride and joy from what she knew to be the inevitable. Little Shayne had said to her on several occasions, “Meme, you aren’t going to die are you?” Each time, Kathy quickly responded, “No, I am not going to die!”