... was lunch today. I have a friend who had met me several times for an extended visit over plates of chicken salad, where there are so many choices it is a struggle to pick the most bestest one. I first encountered J. when she was shopping in the store where I work. We started talking as she pushed her grocery cart through the fresh produce area. Her husband would push and fill a cart for her mom, and she would shop for herself and spouse. Agreeable, congenial folks to encounter. She told me about her ninety-odd-year-old mother, and we began to get acquainted.
J. called me some weeks ago, when her mom was in the hospital and she needed to find someone who would come and sit for several hours. I gladly agreed and took my book, enjoyed spending time with her sweet mom. Mom died in early August, 97 years old, in the comfort of her own home and bed, but I did not know about her death until well after that time. I've been writing Joyce notes with words of encouragement, as her mom became less and less able, more dependent and began to need round the clock care. As I would think of her, and recall my experiences caring for parents as the aged and needed increasing assistance, I would just send a card to let her know she had been on my mind.
During all this with her mom, J. has been struggling with melanoma. She has started some awful treatments for the cancer that is on the top of her head. She attributes the problem to living in south Florida for years: long before anyone ever heard of 'skin cancer', sunscreens or the thought of wearing a hat to protect your head and face. A 'poster child' for the necessity to wear a hat when you walk out the door.
I had not seen J. since I left her in the hospital room with her mom several months ago, though we had talked several times, and I continued to send words of encouragement. She called last week, and we started making plans to have chicken salad for lunch. Though she has not specifically said, I can imagine she does not like to go out anyplace (other than treatment center), with that gauze pad covering the raw wound on the center top of her cranium. So I had offered to get the goods and come out to her house in the country: about 25 miles to the southeast.
I got the yummy eats, and delicious fresh chunked cantaloupe, and drove out through the sand hills and piney woods of middle Georgia to her house. She had just returned home from another round of cancer treatment. We had a good lunch, pleasant chat and enjoyed our time together. Do I need to remind you that Time is our most valuable commodity? Spend it wisely, with people you care about.
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