4. Someone asked me, can’t remember who (see?), what I felt – FELT – when I was told I had cancer. The question made me realize I never stopped to think what my mother felt when she was told she had cancer.
My mother had a way of handling the inevitable that can only be described as Stoical. She did drama – my, Lord, yes, she did drama, but only when it involved something that could be changed by drama. The inevitable was always met, Stoically, with “you do what you have to do.”
On the other hand, my mother never expected much from life. She accepted, but seldom expected. There were few things she had any desire to do, other than what she had already done. She enjoyed visiting with her children and grandchildren and would travel any distance to do so. But she had no desire to see London or Paris or even the Grand Canyon.
I think she learned early on that hers was not a life that would impact the course of history as we read of it in books. And she had no need to be otherwise. The only thing I ever remember her wanting was a cabin in the woods. And in the end, toward the end, she had that, at least for a few years.
As for myself, I’m not sure I can say what I felt, because I felt nothing … and everything. And I knew I would do what I had to do.