For Michelle

Michelle passed away last night, peacefully, after a long battle with cancer. Her oldest son is my #2 son's best friend. She also has a son the same age as my #1 daughter. They are such great kids and I think of them as part of our family.
I didn't know Michelle as well as I would have liked to. She was new to the area when our sons started high school. We were occasionally thrown together when our sons did something together. Then we would talk on the phone, sometimes for an hour, but never frequently. Not long after we met, she began experiencing strange symptoms and was diagnosed with a brain tumor. It took everything she had, but she recovered after a long difficult treatment period. She seemed to be through the worst, then things turned bad again a year ago last spring. It took a long while for a diagnosis; I don't know all of the details, but she told me the day before Halloween that she had bone and lung cancer. I was devastated by the news. I asked her if it was safe for my me to hug her (for fear of making her sicker). Throughout the winter, she endured pure hell. I only got infrequent updates. Then she came home from the hospital. It seemed as though she was improving. There was the possibility of her attending our sons' graduation, with help of a special wheelchair. Unfortunately, she had to be taken back to the hospital and couldn't go. I prayed for a miracle recovery, but alas, it wasn't to be. She apparently slipped into a coma over the weekend and never woke up.
As I said earlier, I didn't know Michelle as well as I would have liked to. She was an extremely intelligent woman, having studied engineering, very artistic as evidenced by her paintings around the house and a devoted mother and Catholic. Her legacy lives on through her sons, both very fine young men. She hadn't finished raising them, but the seeds that she planted in them will grow and flourish. My heart aches for them so much. In certain ways, they have been without her for some time, but now she is really gone and there is an emptinesss that must seem impossible to fill. God, what I wouldn't give to be able to ease their pain.