Lyn, part 2

Lyn, snowshoeing in 2023

One of my closest friends has metastatic cancer. She is just 58 years old. Her husband of eight years is in his mid-60s.

Lyn and Jon have a very close loving relationship. Jon is providing an amazing level of support for Lyn, who also has several close friends helping in all ways possible. Meals are delivered, errands are run, visits are made.

I am among those who are involved with Lyn and Jon almost daily. It is an honor to support the two of them during this tough time. They are both quite special to me. I love getting to see Lyn twice a week or more, but we already saw each other that often. We walked, cross-country skied, swam, kayaked, whatever the season called for. These days I ski alone. I have often skied alone, but these days I really wish Lyn could be with me. I miss our fun in the woods together. I miss telling each other our entertaining travel stories. When you spend a lot of time with a friend, there is no need to catch up on each other’s lives each time you get together. We have had lots of time to be in the moment in nature, to tell amusing stories from our lives, and to simply enjoy being together. I still enjoy being with Lyn, but I am yet to fully settle into this new normal with her. I am working on not resisting what is. I am working on accepting this new reality in Lyn’s life. I am glad that we have the strong friendship we have, a base from which I can pivot to spending time with her in a different way.

While we don’t yet have a clear prognosis or treatment options, this cancer will end Lyn’s life a lot sooner than any of us expected to see her go. And, frankly, I am tired of losing people who are way younger than I expected to lose them. I know that as we age there are more and more losses, but losing a 27-year-old daughter and a 60-year-old sister-in-law/long-time close friend has seemed like more than enough for a while. However, we don’t get to choose all our challenges. If only.

So once again, I have an opportunity to practice resilience. I will shelve books at the library today, my Monday volunteer gig. I will go out into the beautiful snowy woods this afternoon. I will soldier on, and I will be available to Lyn and Jon as they need me. I will enjoy my own good health and able-bodied life for as long as it is available to me. What more can I do?