NET cancer’s arrival

Twenty-four months ago Jane and I were new to NET cancer. We had a diagnosis, had talked to an oncologist, and our first meeting with Dr. Jennifer Chan at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute had been scheduled but was still a week away.

I will write Jane another poem…this weekend.

Jane had spent the last week in her classroom at school throwing out the things she would not need–and knew her replacement would have no use for. She had turned in the letter that put her on indefinite medical leave. The cancer had metastasized to her liver, and we both knew that could not be good.

We talked about me taking a leave as well to stay home with her. She had over-ruled that with a single rhetorical question: “What are we going to do, sit here and stare at each other?” We both knew that travel beyond Boston for appointments would not work. We had seen how weak she was when we took our last vacation together in early August.

The silver bracelet

A couple days before our anniversary we found a simple silver bracelet she had told me she wanted. I had put it on her wrist and she told me no one would take it off but me. I took it and her wedding ring off the day she went into surgery. On the morning of our anniversary I gave her the poem I wrote for her every year. She cried when she read it. We opened our cards and our presents. I brought her breakfast in bed.

I feel good about all of that.

For lunch we went to a little, out-of-the-way restaurant we liked in New Bedford. That night we curled up on the couch together and had our annual toast–though with sparkling cider instead of champagne. We tried to pretend for each other that there would be more anniversaries together. I think we even believed it.

Walkingwithjane.org

A year later I faced our anniversary alone. I wrote her a poem and placed it and a card and flowers on her grave. I sat there for a long time. Then I came and punched the buttons that brought this website into the world. I had been working on it with two former students for weeks beforehand and we had finalized the design just a day earlier. I spent much of our anniversary writing content, editing, and putting things into a “final” shape.

She told me no one would take it off but me.

It kept my mind occupied.

This weekend

Sunday will be our 23rd anniversary. I look back across this year and I know we have done a lot. The website has had close to 12,000 views. We have raised awareness about NET cancer. We have raised some money, met some researchers, seen some real progress toward making patients’ lives better.

I feel good about all of that.

We tried to pretend for each other.

But my heart has not healed. Oh, I can laugh, eat a bowl of ice cream without crying, have a glass of wine with dinner without worrying about climbing into the bottle. But the ache is still there. I avoid going to bed and there are physical locations I am not ready to confront. Half my soul is gone–and it isn’t coming back.

My wish for you

I will write Jane another poem and put it on her grave this weekend. I will write her a card and buy her some flowers as well. And I will remember.

The cancer had metastasized to her liver…

A number of my former students got married this summer. Others celebrated anniversaries or had babies. My wish for them–and for all of you–is the love Jane and I shared for 21 years, three months, and eight days in the physical world–and that I still feel for her almost 21 months after NET cancer took her from me.