In first grade, my favorite book was Four Days. Lots of pictures of President Kennedy's assassination. Oswald's murder, too. And other stuff. I must've taken it out of the library 40 or 55 times.
Well we woke up to the radio news today that his youngest brother died. Youngest at 77. And you know why. BT. Or BC. Whatever you want to call it. I almost laughed when I read AP's paragraph that Kennedy was diagnosed with a cancerous brain tumor in May 2008 and underwent surgery and a grueling regimen of radiation and chemotherapy. But that's because I almost cried this morning.
***
Two days ago Karla and I met a fellow BTB--brain tumor blogger--on a warm night downtown at Pritzker Pavilion. We had never seen each other before in person but we somehow figured things out. I pulled back my hair to show her my scar; she pulled back her scarf. We compared issues, problems, told each other she/he looked great, and laughed about things only cancer survivors and partners can understand.
Then she left, and Karla and I walked around an acoustic and geometric joy on what may have been the last warm Monday night before school begins again. Maybe that's the good news I should have typed first.
Take that back. Always end on a happy note.
Like Ted, we'll take care of these health care bullshit issues, one of which, I might add, is a cure for brain cancer.
Amen.
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