The Kind of News that Stops You Cold

A friend posted a notice on Facebook yesterday that made me drop everything and call her (no sacrifice because if I spend on more day readying this quilt for the quilter, I'm going to leave the damned thing at the bottom of the driveway with a "Free" sign).

Here's the gist of what she posted:  Close friends of hers--whom I know--have learned that their four-year-old grandson has been diagnosed with a rare cancer.  He is in the hospital in Oakland getting chemotherapy.  His mother has moved into his room there.  His father has taken off work.

There's a website where you can give money (this young family has health insurance but a very high deductible), which I did right away.   I told my friend to offer our fold-out bed to the grandparents in case they need a place to sleep, because they live 40 miles from the hospital.

Several times since I learned about this, I've felt close to weeping, always for the grandparents, who are wonderful people and pillars of their West Marin community.  When I told Jerry, he immediately felt empathy for the parents.

"Devastating," he said.  "The thing you most worry about when you're a parent."  He looked stunned.  He's a parent, and his mind (heart) goes straight to that, even though his children are in their fifties.

I went to bed with this on my mind, and I woke up thinking about them.  Haunting.