Shall We?

Shall we,
dance our way into summer?
Laughing eyes, cheeky smiles eclipsing shadows.
Or perhaps,
we tiptoe in on dew dampened feet,
hands clasped, secret whispers hidden behind our hands.

Either way,
we arrive in heat and storm.
passions filling up, spilling over into noontide,
communing with wildflowers, receiving the warmest of winds.

~me, jrdragonfly

So this Monday I was three months post op.  For the most part, medical things have went along in a most wonderful fashion. About three weeks after my surgery, I had an overwhelming need for...escape.  This is not a new feeling for me, just one I was too weak to resist.  And so I dragged the children to a quiet family place, without cable or phone or internet (gasp), where the trees and birds seem to outnumber the stars.  A few weeks later, I went back to work at a part time fashion.  Even that was too much. I did it anyway.  I don't know why, but my family gave me my space and didn't criticize or question.  And I didn't feel alone, even when the kids weren't with me.  I'm not really ready for this move back into life, but things have changed--summer has arrived.  

Strange thing is, somehow I lost a friend to cancer along the way.  It seems so odd to me, even now.  When I went in to the hospital the first time, he  was  there being diagnosed with something no 41 year old with three children should have--only Hitler like types.   When I was undergoing my surgery, he was finally getting a bone marrow transplant at a state of the art facility.  We saw each other rarely, he and his wife and I, those five months; tired waves behind sterile masks. But their children, I saw almost daily. They knew every step of the journey the Bean's mom took in and out of the hospital. There was a haunting wisdom behind three year old eyes that would break the hardest of heart and make them look away.

After the funeral, they looked at me with the same question I ask myself, and have no answer for.  I just don't know why.  Or how--seriously, I lost several liters of blood in my room right after surgery due to a faulty IV.  I didn't know. The nurses didn't know.  It finally soaked entirely through one pillow I was resting my arm on and onto my blankets below when I opened my eyes to weird wetness on my leg.  See?  I just don't know why.  

It seems a distorted picture, this past year.  In the quiet, I could see all the vivid lines, each color vibrant and beautiful. I can only hope and pray the picture remains somewhat defined.