Disclaimer: I’m grieving and have more feelings than I know what to do with. Writing is one way to sort through them. Not sure if they’ll make sense, but here they are.
Further back. In the month or so of receiving her diagnosis. Early 2017.
The bishop is over to give Carla a blessing. Reilly administers the oil. Or maybe the roles are switched.
I’m crying way before “amen.”
She hugs the bishop. She hugs Reilly.
She says to me, “Come here.” And she hugs me.
When she’s the one with less than 30 months to live.
Always a giver; always a fighter. Always loving.