Falling Into Forty is a public forum for my private thoughts, so I am reluctant to share what is going on right now with someone else. But it's not a secret, and there's nothing to be gained from my silence.
Last week, I found out that my Aunt was diagnosed with cancer. The prognosis was grim, three months without chemo and possibly as long as five months with chemo.
Monday, I found out that it was further advanced than first thought, and the prognosis is two months, tops.
Last night, I learned that the doctor is concerned with her continuing weight loss - five pounds in the previous five days - and the prognosis is three weeks.
I'm heartbroken for my Aunt. I'm sad for her daughter and her husband. And I'm angry that she still has so much on her life's list that she wants to do.
And selfishly, I am scared and angry and sad that this has touched my life, and will continue to do so for the rest of my years. I hate that I will lose others and that someday they will lose me. I feel my mortality at this moment and I am engulfed with the incredible sadness of it.