We walked this beach many times. As little girls we promised to be best friends forever. Then came careers, husbands and children of our own. The walks became less frequent. We compared notes on our life’s progress until the pain from the pancreatic cancer became unbearable. Your daughter’s words still haunt me today. “You better come quick. Mom’s dying.”
Create a short story, piece of memoir, or epic poem that is 26 sentences long, in which the first sentence begins with “A” and each sentence thereafter begins with the next letter of the alphabet.
Already it had begun. Before it was never this bad. Cancer is a bad disease. Death can sometimes occur. Even earlier than expected. Far be it from us mortals to determine how long. God grant us serenity. His will be done. I can’t do it myself. Just depend on my Higher Power. Knowledge of this disease is depressing. Love is needed at all times. Money helps us with research. Nobody is immune. Open your hearts to those that suffer. Powerful drugs are being developed every day. Quick and easy are never an option. Results can be devastating. Statistically we are improving our success rates. Technically brilliant people are working on this all the time. Until such time as there is a definite cure we all suffer. Very seldom is the initial diagnosis received with open arms. We will fight until we find a cure. X-ray technology is fast improving. Young people are prone to this disease as are the elderly. Zinc is a constituent of many enzymes that permit chemical reactions to proceed at normal rates.
I had the pleasure of taking Robert to his cancer treatments over a year before he passed away. At one time we went 10 consecutive days. You try and not become friends of your patients but it’s almost an impossible when you spend 3 to 4 hours a day with them. Robert told me stories of his children and his work experience. He was so proud of their achievements. Robert was an entrepreneur even though he probably never used the word. He had a catering business where his sons helped him and he also coordinated bus tours to places like Atlantic City an Atlanta. He said he went by the name of “Boss Man”.
After a few weeks Robert turned to me a said “I’ve told you a lot about myself and I know very little about you.” He said, “Do you have any children?” I said “No, I don’t Robert but I have five cats. He said, then I have a nickname for you. From now on you will be know as “Cat Daddy”. He had a friend who made us two baseball caps (above). One said “Boss Man” and the other said “Cat Daddy”. From then on when we went to the Cancer Center he would announce to everyone in the waiting room: “Boss Man and Cat Daddy have arrived”.