There’s a woman I know who has left her body to Science. It was decided years ago when her young son died from a congenital heart disorder. Bobby Darin disease she calls it. She wished she had donated his then, but hers will have to do.
Jane, I’ll call her, now in her 70s, Irish and strong despite having open heart surgery less than three years ago, is truly a force of nature.
I ran into Jane this morning walking Julius, her black lab, stopping to chat in the predawn light.
“How are you…how’s your hearing?” she said, in that booming voice one would know anywhere.
Not used to such a direct remark pertaining to my health, I started to cry.
“It’s not too good,” I said. “I’m back on meds and feel very discouraged.”
She put her arms around me and said, “You are a very brave girl. Look at you. You’re up. You’re out. You seize the day even with this plight. I admire you so much, and so does Julius,” who was licking my bare knees tenderly.
“Susannah, we just have to keep going. Look at me, they split me open like a tuna and I’m still here to greet the sun.”
When God decides to send in the militia he doesn’t fuck around does he?
When I left her and Julius, my shoulders were straighter and my knees shined.