what do you call a hooker that you pay with spaghetti?
how many people unfollowed you because of this
(via smileethroughtherain)Source: potato-tots
When I worked at the college I worked with a lady named Donna. She was a year younger than my mom. Donna and I kind of clashed at first. She had one of those seemingly permanently bubbly personalities. She could be flighty and unfocused. It drove me bananas! But then, eventually, I learned to accept her for all she was and we became close work buddies. She always kept some sort of chocolate in her desk, so I could count on her to cure my chocolate cravings. She had a goofy sense of humor so I could count on her to make me laugh when I was so stressed out.
She liked going to movies and would give me her reviews of them. My favorite was for The Last Song - “It was good, but then somebody died. Not who you think, though. I won’t ruin it for you, but somebody definitely dies.” And she liked asking me seemingly silly questions because she loved my even sillier answers. Like the time she asked if I knew where Helen Keller was buried and I answered: “In the ground, I hope.”
She’d been through a lot - an abusive marriage, her mom passing away at an early age, kidney failure and an eventual kidney transplant. Absolutely none of that got her down, though, and through the nasty divorce and transplant complications she maintained her sunny disposition and her willingness to do anything for anybody. She was a talented cross stitcher and I commissioned her to make a couple of bookmarks as Mother’s Day gifts a few years ago. After I was let go from the college, she was next on our former boss’s list of Valuable People I Want to Get Rid Of. Donna saw that coming and quit before they could fire her.
We kept in touch after that. We emailed and texted a lot, and she even popped into the store I work in now a few times. Over the last couple of months, though, we sort of lost touch.
Last Thursday, I found out that she’d died the day before.
As I found out at her visitation on Friday morning, a week ago yesterday she’d been diagnosed with a reoccurring, fast-spreading tumor. It had cropped up at first when we both still worked together. It had always been benign but this time it was malignant. She had three options: chemo, surgery, or let it run its course. When she found out that the tumor was blocking her transplanted kidney, she decided to let things run their course.
According to her brother, Donna never complained during the three or so days she was in hospice care. She thanked the nurses when they came in to give her medication or to take her vitals. (Sounds about right.) In fact, the very last word she ever spoke was “thanks” after a nurse gave her some medication.
I’m definitely going to miss her. I’ll miss her kindness, her devotion to her dad, her talking about her latest home improvement project or her newest cross stitching thing she was working on or what movie she’d just seen. I’ll miss her laugh, and how much she loved I Love Lucy. I’ll miss her “just saying hi!” emails.
Rest well, friend. We’ll meet again someday. And i’ll eat some bridge mix for you later.