I wrote this as a xanga entry on  Tuesday, February 28, 2006. Interesting that it was a Tuesday. Tuesday was tea for two day for Shana and I. Every Tuesday, we went to Panera Bread and drank ridiculous amounts of tea and ate tasty pasteries. Today, a Tuesday, I just so happened to go  to Panera Bread with a friend, and we sat down in a sunny spot and I suddenly realized that  I had sat at that very same table many times before, with Shana.

I don't mean to sound as if I am dwelling on death. But once you've felt it, you understand- it changes your life forever. I won't blog about Shana forever, but I will hold her in my heart forever. Right now, I'm just trying to get her from the place where I see her face everywhere and burst into tears, to a place where I can hold her in my heart and cherish who she was and all she taught me...but let go and live again, too.

Here is one of the many lessons she taught me.

Tuesday, February 28, 2006

From my window at work, I can see the railroad track stretching out into the distance. I like the view. Heaven knows I've complained about the passing trains and their screeching whistles often enough, but still, there's something nice about a train track stretching off into the distance. It's so full of possibility. Possibility. That's my favorite word this week, I think. So many things are full of possibility...almost everything is...even the unpleasant things! It's a miraculous thing, possibility, and a wonderful thing to keep in mind.

I've been in a bit of a philosophical mood today. It was probably sparked by an email from my friend Shana. Shana has cystic fibrosis, and for her every day is a fight to live. She took a bad turn this weekend. It looks as though she may not have to fight much longer. But oh, how she wants to fight! She longs to live. Every day that she's not in the hospital, she's enjoying life to the fullest extent she can. Even if it's just sitting on the couch with her oxygen tank attached, her dog's head in her lap, thanking God that she can be home and be around a furry animal. The joys I so often take for granted.

I've often wondered why she wants to fight. Watching what she goes through, I'm pretty sure that I would give up. Why go through endless amounts of pain and procedures and surgeries, all for a few short days out of every year that she can breathe easy and take a few steps? I'm not sure I would do it. But I guess for Shana, there is so much possibility in life. And she doesn't want to leave it until she's explored every inch that she can.