I can't imagine

I'm still struggling to get my head around the fact that my friend's mother is dying. My only real experiences of death have been when my step-grandfather died; when a guy in my class at high school killed himself; and when our dog Kesha never came home one day (presumably run over).

I can't imagine what it's like to know you won't be here in a year; to have to clear up your affairs, sell your house, get your will up-to-date, say your goodbyes, whatever else you need to do. Would you do last-minute things you've always wanted to do? Would you regret not having lived your life more fully? Would you change your attitude to your friends and family, appreciating them more, wanting to leave good memories?

I can't even imagine.

And it hurts me to think of my friend knowing his wonderful mother won't be there in a few months, knowing he'll need to watch her die a slow and painful death. He's a wonderful guy, and his mother's a wonderful woman. I haven't seen her in years, but I remember her clearly: her long hair, the sarong she often wore, her tired face, her kindness and understanding and quiet helpfulness, her love for her sons.

I can't imagine knowing your mother's going to die; that has to be one of the most painful things you'd ever have to deal with.

I want to go there and say goodbye, to make sure there are no hard feelings between us, to tell her what a great woman she is. I want to hug my friend, to know he's being taken good care of, to help him deal with it.

I can't imagine what it's like, but it must be unbearably painful for both of them. His mother's such a strong, wonderful woman. Both she and her son will need so much strength and courage to deal with this.

I just can't imagine.

Daffodil Day

There's so much tragedy.

A friend's mother has pancreatic cancer. She's been given 3-4 months to live; they're hoping to increase that to six months with chemotherapy. She's in pain, she's in chemo, she's lost 30 kilos this year (and she's not exactly overweight to begin with), and she's still going to work — I'd have given up. She's a strong woman.

It feels almost unbelievable. She's such an awesome woman — this shouldn't be happening to her.

I asked my friend what I could do; he said, "If you still pray, you could do that."

It's Daffodil Day today in New Zealand, a day to support cancer research and treatment. You can donate online here, text "DDay" to 883 for a $3 donation, or call 0900 31 111 for a $20 donation.

Another cool way to donate is here, where the National Bank have made a map of New Zealand. You can buy little virtual daffodils, which you plant in whichever region you want; and you can name the daffodil you buy and put a message on it. One virtual daffodil in the Manawatu region is called Christine Clunie; the message is, "Mum, I love you and miss you every day." It's so sad — but what a cool way to remember someone.

So give some thought and some time and maybe some money, to help those who have this horrible disease. And if you're a praying person, pray for my friend and his mother.

Six Pack Three

Finally! The annual Sunday Star-Times short story competition is on again (terms and conditions here), and this time I'm determined to enter — even if I haven't yet completed my first draft of the story I want to enter. Must get onto that. Must get onto assignments and articles first, unfortunately. So many good intentions, so very little time!

In other bookish news, guess what I got.

No, really, guess.

Go on....

That's right, ladies and gentlemen: yesterday I arrived home to find a beauteous brown-paper package in the mail, and as we all know brown-paper packages can contain wonderful and mysterious things, from anthrax to Christmas presents. In this case, it contained my own beautiful copy of The Six Pack Three, courtesy of Dee from NZ Book Month.

Of course, I can't possibly reveal ahead of time who the illustrious winners are, although I can tell you that there are six of them. Wow.

I can probably also tell you that my choice (from the reader's choice poll) is in there (go me and my awesome taste!). Actually, as I flick through the book I notice... oh, that's interesting. But I don't think I'm allowed to say.

And to finish off this totally informative post, I'd like to quote from Stacey Morrison in the introduction of The Six Pack Three: "Sculptors of words, lovers of writing and all the emotions a pen may wield, we salute you!"