This piece reminds me of how tomorrow is not promised. I've been thinking so much about my friend, Yvette, who died in 1989 from going toxic. She had chemotherapy for leukemia.
|Karen is a writer, editor, poet, singer, spoken word performance artists|
She was the person who taught me what friendship was about.
She was so religious. She and I used to talk about faith all the time, and she, like most true believers, accepted my atheism. She had a roommate in the hospital who had skin cancer. Her face was oozy and discolored. The woman whined all the time: "Why me? Why me? Why me?" She drove Yvette crazy, and Yvette said one of the most profound things I have ever heard, and that was, "She does not understand the crucifixion."
That's when I understood what her level of belief was. She accepted her fate as something that her god had control over. She was a CPA/auditor type and didn't want to go back to that work. I told her to go to St. John's to study theology, and she was just about ready to do that when she died. Twenty-nine years old. Broke my heart down to the nitty gritty.