When we got home last night Ernie parked on the street, in order to leave our tiny driveway open for basketball. As we walked toward the house Owen came out with my phone, which I'd forgotten at home yesterday….it was a call for me. It was a friend whom I love deeply but don't talk to near often enough. I was delighted when I heard her name but she quickly said, "no, this isn't that kind of call. Are you sitting down?"

Her husband, whom I adore, has been diagnosed with a lousy cancer. One of the well-if-you-to-have-cancer-just-don't-pick-this-one kind of cancers. I've known them both since I was about 20 years old and worked with him for many years. They are one of the few couples I know that I am confident is as bonded together for life as Ernie and I are. I just stood there on the front porch as I talked to her because I couldn't stay sitting down—even though I had obediently sat down when she told me to. And I kept saying, "fuck…damn it…no….I know life isn't fair but…."

Breaks my fucking heart.

I went inside and Ernie looked at me warily. I gave him the news. He swore quietly. Leo came downstairs and I asked him for a hug. I told him I was sad and he said, "yeah, I know" and repeated everything I had just told Ernie. I forget what little sponges they are. He hugged and kissed me sweetly. Owen came over and did the same and said, "I'm really sorry Mom." Leo went to Minecraft at the kitchen computer and Owen dragged Ernie outside to shoot baskets. I just sat there with the laptop. I googled the type of cancer madly for a while. Then I ordered a pizza because I knew I wasn't cooking dinner. We ate pizza curled up in front of the tv. I tried to watch American Idol but gave up halfway through and went up to bed. I played a little Rod Picott and started a romance novel set in 1770s England. Even those two things couldn't distact me though so I took a couple of Unisoms, turned the light and the music off and just laid in bed until I fell asleep.

Fucking cancer.