Anger Management

Yesterday was the memorial event for one of my best friends in the world who died about a month ago.

Jacqui had endometrial cancer, what I would call a first cousin once removed from ovarian cancer. Similar symptoms, similar treatment.

The thing is, Jacqui was getting better. Her oncologist, who does not see the world through rose-colored glasses, was incredibly pleased with her progress. Her tumor had shrunk immensely and the future was looking much much brighter.

And it showed. Jacqui’s eyes were brighter. Her appetite picked up. She was making plans for travel. She was seeing a future.

And then she didn’t have one. I am not going to go into what I think went wrong. Legal reasons. Privacy. But let’s just say it has left me angry. And this anger is not likely to go away any time soon.

Jacqui was one of those people who had many many friends. Once you knew her, you couldn’t forget her. She was the person you knew you could call in the middle of the night if you needed her. She was the person who was a leader, but also a worker bee. If you worked on it with Jacqui, it got done.

And as much as Jacqui loved her work, she loved her family even more. I mourn for her son and his family. Damien, who is three, lost his nonna way too soon.

And it pisses me off. I rail every time a friend dies of these horrible gynecological cancers, and there have been way too many recently. But that is what happens when you hang out with people who have one of these diseases. And while I hate the loss, I love the support of these women. Each loss is painful, but each triumph is cause for celebration.

And that is where we were with Jacqui. We felt as if we had been given the gift of more time. And so a lot of us are angry. We know there is not a damn thing we can do about it.

At last night’s memorial, I was the emcee. As I listened to the speakers— coworkers, friends, family, I thought about Jacqui’s legacy. So I closed the event with this— I think the way to honor Jacqui is to every now and then BE Jacqui— give a dollar to a homeless person, make lasagne, laugh at my own jokes louder than anyone else in the room, work for justice. Love freely.

There is no question her memory is a blessing. And as time goes on I know I will have to let go of this anger. But for now, it is here. I will examine it, and I will learn from it. And hold onto it just a little bit longer.