Trusting, in Layers

Bridges, they are like chapels as if honoring the water below and the magic of crossing over.

Trust I

Her work was to trust, and she studied and thought and studied more in trying to make trust just something she did.  Her trust had grown in a way she had not anticipated.

She had let go of her home in CA, sold it, moved up north to Oregon, at least moved her things, got her Oregon driver’s license, registered her brand new Subaru in Oregon.  And each step of the way, it seemed okay.  At first, she felt anxious, and then she let go of that. After apprehensively getting her driver’s license, by the time she registered her car, it felt okay to be there.  Here certainly felt better than there.  She still rented a room from a stranger that placed her in aesthetically challenging surroundings.  But she was indeed not ready to be anywhere that was just hers. She could feel the time coming when she would want her own place once again, but it wasn’t yet.

Trust II

Today was a day of testing trust.

What did she trust in when her friend was finding out about the sores on her body and masses found inside her body.  When on this same day she left her dog behind a cage door at the Vets so he could have a growth cut out along with a tiny mass on the bottom of the same paw.

Two beings who are so dear to her.  Two beings who have thoughts she will never know. Two beings who she looks to for comfort, for grounding, for sanity.  One blond with laughter, one covered in chocolate fur. Both touch her heart, her soul and keep her company on this journey of her life.

Since she started this, her dog’s lab tests came back, saying no cancer. “Phew,” as one daughter said.  He had Trichoepitheliomas which arose from cystic hair follicles (follicles that have closed over, like a sac) and created a growth, which looked like an extra toe.

The blonde in her life will see the oncologist tomorrow.  It is hard to believe she is or will be okay. She keeps getting new sores and the ones she has, keep getting worse, and those are just the visible ones.

All of a sudden she found herself on a journey with this friend which was different than when they started.  When they talk now, she finds that she wants to catch every wise word coming from this friend, her buddha buddy, as they had come to call each other.  She wants to remember every conversation as if filing all of this for reference for when this friend is gone, and she won’t be able to pick up the phone to hear her legal knowledge about this or that or hear her worldly wisdom.  And all that resides in the assumption that her friend will leave before she does.

Trust III

Trust takes on new dimensions.

The friend is leaving.  She has stomach cancer that metastasized to her lungs, liver, bone, breast… She had been to see the friend in Hospice, in Seattle 2 times, just arriving back yesterday from the most recent visit.  The friend is letting go, slowly, stubbornly.  For the first few weeks, she believed she could fight cancer and win.  The last several weeks have been filled with confusion, bewilderment that she was dying and battling surrender to the reality of death.

It is a rare occasion to see someone in the process of dying.  It is like the insides leave bit by bit, and what remains is the skeleton, the skin, hair, and eyes. What can it mean to trust here, while watching death do it work?  Where does trust fit in?  The friend is afraid she doesn’t know how to die.  Is that the final trust?  Knowing that one way or another we all die?

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