Maybe that pain serves a good purpose-it is the thing that allows us to let go. Lisa made it clear in her last few posts that all she wanted at that point was time. Time with her family and friends, time to come to grips with what was happening to her. She was hanging on so fiercely that perhaps the pain was the only thing that would allow her to let go from this life. And seeing her in that amount of pain was probably the only reason they were willing to let her go.
God, she was strong. I couldn't do it. I just can't imagine myself having that kind of strength. I mean, if I found out I had cancer I would fight, of course-no one in their right mind wouldn't. But come on! Ovarian cancer? THREE TIMES? I know me, and at some point, once I knew things were not going to get better, I would have to leave. I don't know that I would have the courage to write about it, because I'm all about the shiny parts, folks. I want to be remembered as fun and happy and someone who could make you smile. Not that Lisa wasn't, I'm just saying I don't think I could do it (No, not today-I'm not thirteen today.) with her grace. I don't want my family to ever have to remember me suffering. I just want to be able to go somewhere that no one knows me and do any pain and suffering as privately as possible. Not for me-for everyone else. I mean, face it, bitchy is not pretty, and I'm pretty sure I would be the Supreme Cancer BITCH.
But this is about Lisa. I'm sure heaven is throwing a welcoming party the likes of which we can only imagine. Tequila. Sushi. Ribs. Choirs of angels singing Rolling Stones tunes. Wonderful company-some old souls she hasn't seen in ages and new ones she's about to charm. In an odd way, I am happy for her. Because you know? It is what it is.