My Best Friend Forever

Linda while pregnant with Andrea.
 You can see her joyous glow.

My best friend,  Linda Watkins, would have celebrated her 63rd birthday this month. I believe on the 24th. But, she died of cancer close to her birthday in 1982 about the age 33. When we first met in 1974, I had just moved into a small house in El Monte, California. We hit it off right away. She was my neighbor.

Linda has a very great sense of humor. She could always find something funny to joke about, even at the most serious of times. She had such a cheerful disposition and never allowed herself to be depressed or miserable for any length of time. She was also a very strong minded individual and never let anyone push her around. She had a very firm belief system and some of her values were immovable.

If ever too opposites attracted it was my friend Linda and I.

She had a darling little baby girl, named Andrea, who must be in her thirties now, or perhaps forty. Linda’s mother Millie/Tillie called on the phone every day, and asked, “how’s my baby?”. She didn’t mean Linda. She meant Andrea. It was funny at first, but then one day Linda, feeling a little possessive, responded with, “She’s not YOUR baby, she’s mine! I am your baby, and I am doing fine!”  The reason I refer to Mrs. Duran as Millie/Tillie is because her name was Mildred and went by Millie at one time in her life. But, before Linda introduced us, she insisted that I call her Tillie. I never learned why. Perhaps it was a private joke between mother and daughter?

Look at the joy on those faces!

Linda was approximately my height, 5‘ 2“. When we first met, we were the same weight, but from that point on she lost weight and I gained. Sometimes it was the other way around, a running joke with us. Still both of us were more plump than we thought we should be. I look back and see we wasted a lot of time worrying about our figures.  She was of Mexican-American ancestry, though if anyone ever asked if she was Mexican, she firmly replied, “I’m American!”  With the Watkins last name, and no accent, no one dared to ask further.

Linda had sparkling brown eyes that showed her inner attitude that life was fun. She had naturally tan skin, but every summer we laid out under the sun to get more tan! I always ended up with sunburn. Her complexion was clear. She had perfectly arched eyebrows and a lovely face that most women would envy. She had what my mother called, “beauty marks”.  Linda called them moles. But, they were not moles in my opinion. They were flat. They were beauty marks. She didn't like them much and always said someday she wanted them removed. Linda had naturally curly, thick black hair. She always made an effort with her appearance. Where I would toss on a pair of jeans and t-shirt. She might do the same, but she accessorized. She took the time and trouble to put on her makeup and wear nice shoes. She carried herself better than I. I’m somewhat of a slouch. Even when she was casual, she still appeared neat and fashionable. And I admired her for that.

Even though we were best friends, I didn't know she had cancer until just a few weeks before she died.  I remember a year before, she hinted around, but I didn't get it. She asked some medical questions, which now I understand were directly related to her symptoms.

Was keeping her secret part of her keeping a positive attitude? Did she not want to share her situation with me? Truly, I was very hurt, and tremendously suffered grief when she died. Would it have been different, if we had shared the burden? If I could have supported her through her ordeal?

I look at this picture now. Linda and her two daughters, Andrea and Marcee. I can see it on her face. She already knew she had cancer at that time. I'm sure of it. Her smile is not entirely lit up the way it was before.

Linda didn't have Leukemia like I have now.. Those couple weeks before she died, when she did share with me, she waffled about what her diagnosis was. There was a terrible new cancer that no one had ever heard of at the time that was killing gay men by the hundreds. She referred to it often, but we laughed about it. After all she was not a gay man. Is it possible she was one of the first women to have HIV-AIDS? I used to think that maybe it was her moles. I knew there is a kind of cancer a woman can have where a mole is in the womb while she is pregnant. But, I have since learned that a living baby is not produced, and Linda had Marcee just two years before she died. I suppose I will never know. I guess it doesn't matter what kind of cancer it was. She's gone and there is still a great big hole in my heart that my best friend used to fill with laughter.

PLEASE! If you are going through diagnosis of cancer of any sort, find a way to share with your loved ones what is going on with you. Yes, it might upset them. Yes, they might cry. Yes, they might go into denial. We all do that sometimes. But, give them a chance to be with you on your cancer journey. PLEASE don't go it alone.

Elusive Happiness

Photo by Elizabeth Munroz

What ever happened to happily ever after? That was all hype, like Santa Claus, Leprechauns, the Tooth Fairy, and all that other bunch of lies that were perpetrated upon us as kids. There ought to be a Law!!!

Really... I think happiness is what we make it.

As the Buddhists say, one of the first truths is that we all have suffering, none can escape it. Once that sinks in, we can work from it, or around it or with it, or whatever. The Buddhists also say that the one thing in life that is constant is change.

My life often seemed as though it had all been one big dark pit of suffering. Truly, a lot of it I brought on myself by my attitude towards things. At the time I didn't know any better. How could I cope if no one I knew had the skills to be an example to me? I guess I could say I came from a dysfunctional family. But, how were they to know, either, if they were brought up when times were so challenging all you could think about was where the next meal would come from.

The person I am today is not who I once was. Somewhere along the way I learned that happiness is not meant to be a permanent condition. What a shock when I found that out! I thought I had been missing out on something everyone else had.

I think it's a good thing we don't have an abundance of joy. We would get bored with it. Don't you think? In order to appreciate happiness, thrill to it, we must be deprived of it, before it fills us to overflowing. (Shades of "My Cup Runneth Over").

Photo Art by Elizabeth Munroz

It's funny how the littlest things make me happy now, that I never even considered worthy of the appellation. Simply watching what's going on around me without judging it, for example. When I'm down, I might just make myself smile. At first, it makes me feel a fake happiness that catches on and becomes real the more I do it. Perhaps the body, the mind, the spirit needs reminding? Sounds crazy I know, but I am probably somewhat that, too. Psychiatrists say that everyone has a bit of neurosis. Yes?

Then, of course, there's Chocolate Happiness!  'Nuf said on that one.

I'm of a believer in the concept of destiny. Not that we are pawns of it, but that we have opportunity to enhance life and challenge us to become the best we can be. Naturally we do not live the perfect path, but some acceptance of the painful things sure goes a long way for making life easier.

When I look back, I can see that so many things I previously considered disastrous in my life were actually good things. While I was going through challenges and difficulties, even of the worst kind, I clung to the "woe is me" sentiment. I sometimes felt victimized and helpless. I tolerated those situations way too long before setting myself free. Often this occurred in a very traumatic way, as I went through it all in a most negative attitude. "Oh, poor me. Life is hard. Other people have it so easy. No wonder they are happy." Life might have been easier had I not looked at life from such a viewpoint.

Photo by Elizabeth Munroz

Yet, today, looking at my experiences, I do not regret a single moment of it. Lessons were to be learned. Understanding needed to be gained. Everyone goes through it. If I had clung to what I thought was going to bring me happiness, I never would have been able to face today. It is all the more precious!

All this brings me deep in my soul, healing and satisfaction beyond mere happiness. I find that I can accept the things that happen in my life. I am aware of the attitudes I had about them in the past. I feel it brings me a compassionate heart that opens to heartfelt pain and full love for others I have never met. See what I mean?

I had cancer, and many disfiguring surgeries. I had marriages that failed. Children lost to me. Friends who couldn't deal with illness. I suffered and had such a negative attitude about it for years. Yet, it has all made me the person I am today. Way stronger of an individual than I ever could have dreamed of being without it. Dealing with Leukemia, even the so-called easy kind is my permanent future. I'm not pretending to be a positive thinker. I just take one day at a time, and thank science for having a chemo pill I can pop every day so that my cancer is controlled. Sure, there are side effects, and I don't always feel well, going to the doctor is a regular part of my life. It is what it is. Some days are worse than others. But, I make the best of it.

I know not everyone looks at things this way. But this is my take on it, and it makes me happy.