I can't make you laugh tonight. Because all I can do is cry. I wish that wasn't the case, but it just is. Someone I care a lot about, one of my imaginary unicorn friends, my girl from BlogHer and beyond, is, as we speak, preparing to live her life without her husband.
And I don't understand. My heart hurts. No amount of glitter or kittens or rainbows can make this better. Not now. For her and for him, and for her kids. You see, this is not a divorce, this is not voluntary at all. This is about a disease. A horrible, nasty, debilitating disease that has stolen their lives and their family. A disease he beat once, and that came back with a vengeance. We of the Internet said fuck cancer. And he did for a while. Now he has run out of time. The crazy thing is that after all of this, the tumor is shrinking. But the damage is done...his lungs and heart are damaged, and they've reached the end of this journey.
I haven't been able to write this, because I guess I didn't want to admit it, and I didn't want to hurt her to see it in print, though God knows she is writing about it, probably to keep herself sane and try to comprehend the incomprehensible.
Her husband is dying of cancer. And he isn't going to leave the hospital. She is losing her love, and her best friend. Her children are losing their father. And I don't care who you are, or how much faith you claim to have, there is nothing, not one thing, that you can say to make me believe this is okay.
God works in mysterious ways, they say. I say, maybe he doesn't work at all. Someone has a terrible sense of humor. Are you listening, God?
you might want to get a joke book. You are seriously humor-impaired. I know, you are God, and perfect, all of that. But when it comes to jokes? Yours suck. You might want to spend some time on the Internet, twitter, tumblr. There are some wicked funny people there that might be able to show you the difference between good and funny and just …bad taste.
Because the idea of one of my best friends, my imaginary unicorn of a fierce, and funny friend losing her husband to cancer on April Fool's Day? Well, that's just the biggest cosmic joke, isn't it? Actually, it's in very poor taste, akin to telling a racist joke at the NAACP meeting. It's like telling old people jokes in a retirement home. Telling flood jokes in New Orleans. Bottom Line? That shit ain't funny.
T, who has no tag-line this timephoto by carfull53, under creative commons