I'm still in shock.
Nine years ago, I moved into Suite 324 with some really amazing girls. Over the course of the two years we lived together, my six "suitees" and I waded through a jumble of differing backgrounds and worldviews and politics and faith to become the kind of family unit that still gives me a rock-solid sense of identity. Every week we met for bible study and to hash out our "suite business." But far more formative were the impromptu after-midnight gut-spilling sessions on the sofa, the shared meals in the caf after choir, the evening teeth-brushing sessions in the bathroom, the million little ways in which we wove ourselves into a living tapestry. Suite 324 was my home base, the place I could relax and be myself and be loved for it (or sometimes despite it) by these amazing, bright, wonderful women.
Our friendship, held together by commitment and the cement of shared experience, is definitely not always smooth sailing. We push each other's buttons with ease, we fall back into old patterns, we get a little lax with the communicating... but we also joyfully celebrate the high points of each other's lives and stand by each other with solid loyalty and support during the awful times. And so, amazingly, this beautiful friendship has stood the test of time.
And this week all the Suitees are aching in our hearts. Because yesterday we found out that K. has breast cancer. Her surgery was scheduled for today: they are removing the cancerous lump and a few lymph nodes to see if it has metastasized. We haven't heard yet how the surgery went, but I know that each of us is praying that K. will be able to feel our love and support with her, that God will guide the surgeon's hands, that the outcome will be positive and that the uncertainty will be kept at a minimum. But whatever uncertainties and obstacles she faces, I know that K. knows she's not in it alone. 'Cause she's a Suitee.
I'll go back now to waiting on pins and needles, praying and hoping and just in general trying my best to feel less far away.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Suitee
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3 comments:
```tears```
```more tears```
I feel far away, too. I wish we could all just hit the road and go to her. But, I'm not sure that is what she needs either. The waiting and praying game is never very easy. Thanks for the beautiful tribute to our little suite family. `````tears again
Amy
Dear Jess--
I don't know K, or any of your suitemates, but I do know the amazing depth with which you love your friends. And I know it's not primarily an ENFP thing; it's a Jess thing.
K and you and the rest of the suitees are, of course, in my prayers. You (plural) still will be, long after I return to my new life in the U.S. on Thursday.
Be there for K, and then let others be there for you. Your community is larger than you sometimes think it is.
Much love,
EAM.
This is beyond sad. I obviously wasn't a suitee, but I lived with K for a summer at camp. Of all the people who should be receiving back some of the life and joy they constantly exude to everyone else instead of going through something like this...
There are many times that I wish some of my "why"'s could be answered.
My heart hurts. Hang in there, K. There's lots of us praying for you.
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