The Myers Family: February 2008

So, my mother-in-law has cancer.

Wow, how do you follow up a sentence like that?!

When she was diagnosed a few weeks ago we all went into a sort of pre-mourning as if her death warrant had already been signed. And although things are still really uncertain at this point, we are all kicking ourselves for being such jerks. Its not fair to Linda to treat her like it is already the end.

I struggled with my feelings about this for a long time. Fear, sadness, hope, indifference and even anger. Selfishly, I was bitter that something would be putting a bit of a damper on my pregnancy. Linda has such a healthy attitude about what might be, that I began to think that she didn't have the desire to stick around and meet a new grand-baby. And also, very selfishly, I was a little pissed that I would be losing my my shopping/movie/lunch/talking and hanging out buddy for probably a very long time...at least.

You see, Linda is probably my best friend.

Not many people get to say that they have found a best friend in their mother-in-law. When Joe and I first started dating, I remember how surprised and pleased he was to learn that his mother and I share the same birthday (seemed a little odd to me). And when I went to his parents' house for the first time, it only took one look at the portrait of Cesar Chavez that was posted to the refrigerator to know that I was in the company of a kindred spirit. And the similarities don't end there; we often joke that it is almost creepy.

As we learn more and more about Linda's condition, the reality of her mortality continues to become more and more apparent. It is almost too impossible to believe that this woman whose spirit is larger than life is actually mortal. I have learned so much from her and I continue to all the time. I sometimes worry that I could never live up to her example in Joe's eyes because they are as close as a mother and son can be and a lesser woman would probably be threatened by that...hell, I admit that sometimes I am.

The most amazing thing about Linda that I have learned from this situation so far is how incredibly strong and unselfish she is. When she talks about the possibility of cancer getting the better of her, you can tell that she is prepared to go gracefully. Not many of us can say that we would be prepared to do the same. I think that even I would want to bite, scratch, and kick at death before ever being willing to admit that it is knocking at the door. But not Linda, and that is not to say that she is giving up on life either. I think that she has such a firm grip on what really matters in life, and she never misses an opportunity to show the people she loves how she feels about them. Therefore she has no regrets, no unfinished business, no things left unsaid.

I have been trying to prepare myself for the worst and hope for the best. And it occurred to me recently that should Linda go before I do, I would probably be expected to say something at her memorial. Again, selfishly, I thought about my paralyzing fear of public speaking and began to get nervous just at the thought of it. I even asked Joe if he would read something for me. And when I started to think about all the things that I would want to say, I realized that many of them are things that I have never said to Linda. So I am taking a page out of Linda's book and letting her know now how I feel...leaving nothing unsaid.

Linda, I don't know how anyone can follow your act. You are probably the most insightful, loving, inspiring, and enlightened person that I know. But I promise you this: no matter what happens I will always look to your example of how to be the best wife, mother and friend that anyone can possibly be.