Tear

I did this watercolor painting on Monday and my Open Studio facilitator (she doesn't want to be called a teacher) asked me if this was a tear. I said yes, I'm drawing what I can't do.

On Monday Phebe died, last Thursday Nicole died, and last Monday Nancy died, all from cancer or complications from cancer treatments. Phebe and Nicole were in my weekly support group at the Wellness Community. Nicole was only 40 years old with two young daughters, one Z.'s age and the other about 4 years old. She had never had a remission, but had been continually fighting her cancer since diagnosis. Her body couldn't handle the treatments any longer and the cancer took over. Besides knowing Phebe from group she was also a friend of mine's boss. She had pancreatic cancer, initially with a pretty good prognosis (if there is such a thing with pancreatic cancer) but the cancer came back and did so with a vengeance. I had never met Nancy, but we'd "known" each other for 4 years through the online gyn cancer support group eyesontheprize.org. Nancy and I had the same cancer, same stage, mine about a year after hers. Her cancer did not recur, but the long term side effects of her aggressive treatment left her body such a mess that ultimately she was not able to sustain life.

It's not that there are no tears at all, they kind of well up a bit around the edges. But I find that I just don't cry anymore. I don't mean just for the people I have lost, but at all. Another friend in my group, who has had three different cancers and a number of recurrences, says that she doesn't cry anymore either. She said she just eats. I said, yeah, me too.

So I decided to paint the tear, one large explosive tear, for Phebe and Nicole and Nancy and myself.