I am 34 years old and I am too young to say goodbye to my friends, my generation. I am too young to die, so are my friends. Way too young. However, age doesn't always matter. Cancer doesn't care how old you are. Neither does any of the many things that can take our life.
You might be wondering why I am struggling with this. I am a nurse in a Pediatric ICU, I see death in children all too often. I have lost some patients that I have come to care about. Little Miss LPD, Mr FQ, and Mr YJ, all have become angels, all I have cared about so much. Do I think it is fair? Not a chance, the oldest of the three mentioned above was two, all were much too young to die. However, I saw them all struggle and fight. I was there for their battles. I was there for one of their final moments as he was held in his mother's loving arms. I have hugged so many grieving family members and it never becomes any easier.
However, on my way home from work this morning, after spending the night caring for a little boy who may not live much longer, everything was challenged. I found out that one of my peers, a beautiful young woman who was 36 years old, has died after a battle with breast cancer. Suzie was a couple of years older than me, and I adored her when I was a kid. She was the most beautiful girl in the world. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and looked like a model.
As I grew up, she became a source of great strength to me. She had her son Zach around the time I got pregnant with my son Drew. Zach was born in September (I believe) and Drew was born in February. I was alone, Drew's father left, and at that time, Suzie was a single mother. She lived at home with her parents after Zach's birth and she was such a great friend to me during the time I was pregnant, and scared.
As it happens, so often in this life, she moved on and so did I. She married Zach's father and moved away. I moved away, became a nurse, and got married. My mom would keep me updated on Suzie and her family whenever she heard news. Last spring, Suzie's father died after a massive heart attack. Don Varela was a wonderful man and it hurt so bad when he died. However, he was in his sixties, and sometimes people in their sixties die, even though sixty is still young in my book (the older I get, the further away old gets.)
However, fate is sometimes cruel. Suzie was diagnosed with breast cancer. Breast cancer???? What? I know. I really do. I am a nurse, I used to work with adults. I worked on plastic surgery units where I would take care of MANY women after reconstruction post-mastectomy. My grandmother lost both of her breasts, one in the 1980's and one in the 1990's. I know that cancer doesn't care who you are, how beautiful you are, or how old you are. Breast cancer is deeply devastating to women and their families.
I don't know how to say goodbye. I can't even wrap my brain around that fact that Suzie Varela is dead. I haven't seen or spoken to her in a dozen years, but I can't even imagine that she is not a part of this world anymore. I can't say goodbye, I don't know how to. Maybe someday.
