In February Helen called me. “I just heard from my doctor. My liver cancer has metastasized. I think I am dying. She had this cancer ever since I met her in a memoir writing class I taught five years ago.”
I have been visiting her regularly since then. Helen with the wonderful creativity and imagination; with the quirky sense of humor. As I sit in her darkened living room my eyes fall on the chunks of wood we turned over and over, looking for their life sparks. In the corner is the complete cow spine I gave her for her 78th birthday.