The cancer has already spread. She says that she’s at peace with it. Quotes Romans 8:28. I don’t know if I believe in God anymore, but I still know the verses. “And we know all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.” KJV

Now is not the time to ask what that means for the holocaust, or slavery, or childhood leukemia. Instead I smile sweetly and nod my head. She speaks of getting to meet her savior and seeing her parents again. For her, this cancer is a win-win. She can live a bit longer and continue to be with us, or she can die and be with the rest of our family.

She refuses pain medication in order to not be addicted to opioids. Her pain shines through her movements. Like a shadow cast on her features. She speaks about the things she thought she had more time to do. She never learnt to dance, but she knows her old friend is excited to teach her when she gets to heaven. You’d think her biggest regrets in live would be the hurt she caused others, but instead it is that she didn’t clear out her house for us.

I giggle and listen to her tell the same stories. She forgets the word she’s searching for nearly every other sentence. I can’t imagine the frustration to be unable to say what you want, to do what you want. Completely powerless to cells you can’t even see. Cells her own body is creating. I’m reminded of a something I read recently. John Green writes in Everything is Tuberculosis, “We are powerful enough to light the world at night, to artificially refrigerate food, to leave Earth’s atmosphere and orbit it from outer space. But we cannot save those we love from suffering. This is the story of human history as I understand it – the story of the organism that can do so much, but cannot do what it most wants.”

When I got to her house the last time, she mixed up her words and greeted my by saying goodbye.