Bobbing for Apples

I found NF's blog. One of his FB friends referenced it on his FB page. NF mentioned it over dinner but thought maybe I shouldn't read it. His sweet Maggie died when the Cancer spread to her lungs. If I die from the OC, that is what will happen to me. The first time you contemplate your own death, it is like bobbing for apples in a giant barrel of ice water. You want to get in and out as soon as possible because the brain freeze happens quickly and it's painful. You try it once or twice and then push the bucket aside. But it's big. And right in the middle of the kitchen floor. You trip over it constantly, determined not to move it because that would mean touching it which would mean looking at it. You can't figure out how to stop stubbing your toes. Finally you realize that you need to pick up the damn bucket. I have been stubbing my toes for about three years. Stubbing your toes is another "fun" thing I wish I didn't know about Cancer. I think I have finally moved the bucket to the back deck. It's sitting in the sun. The ice has started to melt. I walk around it and peer in every once in awhile now. I stuck my arm in it up to my elbow. Not ready to stick my whole face in it yet. I hope I will be if the time comes for that. Moving the barrel to the corner was a big step. It feels good. It feels like the beginning of peace.