Memoir to a Bosom Pal
by Bev Jelicich

There were no tears shed the day you were cut away, nor
when I saw you replaced by surgical tape.
In a darkened ward at night I started to write a tribute to you. It was then the tears welled up and fell unashamedly.

Sleep didn't come early in the morning either, just more tears ....

I gazed out of the hospital window and saw a beautiful sunrise - the symbol of a new day and a new life without you.

I thought I had rationalized the need for your going, processed my feelings, even held a little ritual ....
How silly of me to think that was all that was needed.
Could the depth of my grieving also be a catharsis for other losses not mourned deeply enough?

I know the depth of my grief symbolized what you meant to me. It denoted the extent of your importance in my life.
Your continuing presence was taken for granted, you balanced me.
I nestled my children and others close to you.
Only a rogue dividing cell ended our journey together,
You had to be taken to allow me to survive.

Your last gift in your leaving was to let me feel the love and the caring that surround me at such a deep level.
I have had such love and support following your loss, this was such a treasure.

I have now joined the one in ten women who join the sisterhood of "breast friends" because of our shared experience.
Your twin bosom pal on the other side is a lonely sentinel now. You were but one part of me but you made me feel whole.

Blessings and thanks go with you as you take your leave, you served me well.

(Posted October 2009)

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