Any of it.
Because you were supposed to be here forever. The body and mind you had worked so hard to keep healthy and strong couldn't possibly deteriorate in one year's time. People always told you, "you're one of those people who is going to live to be a hundred." Because as other people your age started to experience health problems that resulted in having to pop a variety of pills every day, there you were...speed walking on your lunch break, eating whatever the heck you wanted, but "in moderation." I never quite realized it until recently, but I always saw you as unbreakable.
You "broke" at 2:10 pm on a cloudy Monday. Cancer wore your body down, and it creeped into the brain that had always been so sharp, stealing years and years worth of sweet memories that you always held so close to your heart. We watched your body change, we saw your hair fall out, we smiled sadly as your memory progressively faded with each passing day. But that heart and spirit of yours? Never once did they even crack.
A few weeks before you took your last breath, I laid next to you and asked you if you were scared. Immediately and without hesitation, you said "no." I asked if you'd ever been scared, and you thought for a second before saying "no, I don't think so." I told you, as I had done every day during your last month or so, that when you got too tired, you could let go. Because Neal and I would be okay. I thanked you for showing us how to be strong.
I forgot, however, to thank you for being fearless. There are so many words I could use to describe you, but if I had to choose just one, that would be it. I can't remember a single time in my life when you ever showed an ounce of fear. While you were "spiritual but not religious," I think your belief in a higher power was stronger than you ever really displayed for the world to see. You were always gracious; always thankful for your mini (and sometimes major) miracles. You may have driven us all absolutely insane with your constant need to give us 378 choices when trying to make a decision, plan a family gathering, or make us something to eat...but in the grand scheme of things, you were so at peace with life.
I constantly think about how awful it would have been to have ever thought you were scared. You fought what almost always ultimately ends up being a losing battle so hard, and you did it with a smile on your face.
Thank you for showing us how to be fearless, strong, and unbreakable until your very last breath.
