The Cancer Diaries: Thank You for Being a Friend

Every story has an ending, and we've come to it.

The beautiful and bountiful sprays of flowers are now wilted, and will be going into the recycle today.

The letters have all been written, and the cheques have all be cashed.

Her carbon footprint, once larger than the woman herself, is now reduced to a small, cream coloured box filled with receipts, just in time for tax season.

On Thursday, Jennette Katherine Lovie was interred in a brief ceremony involving putty and blowtorches, the plot salesman, Squishy, Scott and me. 

Now it's time to say goodbye.

She and Roger can now rest together under the watchful eyes of John and Sadie Smuck, featured in the photo above. It always seemed great that they would have a couple of Smucks with whom they could spend eternity.

For me, it's time to move on. 

This morning, I died my hair red because I could.

This afternoon, we'll spend time with my eldest granddaughter, Skylar, eating bad food at Mickey D's. I will lecture my son, Nick, on his cadaver-like appearance, and will get the hand, as usual.

I won't make a big point about it.

People make their own choices.

I've learned that.

I just wanted to say goodbye to you, loyal readers and supporters.

I'm closing out the Cancer Diaries, hoping never to have to reopen them for someone else.

I have appreciated your prayers, and thoughts, and cards and letters.

But now I must go back to the land of the living.

It's been hard in this place, so close to death, in some ways.

But it's gratifying in other ways. I have never felt so alive.

I won't take things for granted, again.

Like my health, like the hours I spend with Scott, the kids, and the grandkids.

I will hug them all a little closer, and I will love my dogs all the more.

Thank you all for being friends to me, and Jennette.

We'll be fine, both of us.

No pain for her, a perch beside the crazy moustache.

More living for me.

Oh, before I go, one thing.
Stop. Smoking.
It's not just about you.