I am frustrated, confused and rather hurt.
Guess what? I'm dying. It should come as no surprise if you've even had a passing interest in this blog. It isn't an absolute, of course. Sure, sudden miracles have been known to happen. Maybe, just maybe, the new medication I've been taking will turn things around or at least give me a little more time. But the cold, harsh reality is: I'm dying. If things continue as they are, I have about three months left.
I've been asked, over and over, what I would like to do with the time I have remaining. My overwhelming response has been that I would like to spend time with my friends and family, preferably while I am still coherent enough to enjoy the experience.
Plus, my birthday is coming up. In 5 more days, actually. And it happens to fall on a Saturday. And I've never had an honest-to-goodness birthday party on my birthday. Ever. So my darling husband decided it would be an awesome thing to invite tons of my friends to share in what could be my last birthday. We envisioned a party with plenty of fun and loads of laughter and a break from the typical "oh, you're dying" awkwardness. A day where I could relax and visit with friends and snack on delicious things and play games and just enjoy myself.
Sounds pretty darned perfect to me. So, what's the problem?
He invited loads of people. Around 50 or so. (And in this case, if it was a couple being invited I counted them as 1, collectively... so really around 80 people total were invited.) And invitations were sent out weeks in advance, giving plenty of time for people to plan ahead. Again, what's the problem?
The problem is, we've heard from 4 people. Four. Two of those are regrets. One is an "I'll try." Only 1 person cares enough to do this simple little thing - to take a couple hours out of their day to stop by and say "happy birthday" to someone who is facing the end of their days on this Earth.
Do you know someone who has died? Have you ever wanted just one more chance to tell them you care about them?
Apparently the people I have always considered to be my friends are using this opportunity to instead tell me that they are like honey badger - and they just don't give a fuck.
You know what? I love them anyway. Every damn one of them.
I just wish they'd give me the chance to tell them that... because headstones aren't very talkative.