“You know what today is?” asked the man sitting in his recliner a few feet from mine, enjoying the same treat I was, only a slightly different variety.
“What?” I asked.
“A gift.”
Damn straight. Today I had my fourth treatment, and I left the hospital feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. I spent the past couple hours chatting with an older gentleman named Ron and his wife, Gloria, whom he so clearly adores.
The dialog is pretty predictable in those halls. There are two chairs per room, and it doesn’t take long for the “what are you in for” conversation to start.
Ron was baffled with my eyeball cancer. His started as prostate cancer and metastasized to his bones. We shared secrets to fighting the side effects and book titles about nutrition. We joked about “who wore it best” when comparing our bald heads.
We talked about diet and attitude and the way you end up living your life when you’re faced with your own mortality. We shared our stories about finding the love of our lives who are carrying us through this journey.
We exchanged emails and when I got to my car, he had sent me images of some paintings he created. His wife got him started a couple years ago, as an outlet I presume. They were beautiful.
If you’ve seen The Holiday with Kate Winslet, he reminded me of Arthur. Such a beautiful outlook on life and such a beautiful meet cute.
We may not have appreciated our reasons for being there, but I sure felt blessed walking away. Thank you, Ron, for reminding me what a gift today is.