You might not believe me, but there are a whole bunch of good things about battling cancer. Like food. because, as I've mentioned before, losing a lot of weight has the undeniable power to make others want to feed you.
That fact has happily manifested itself in a steady stream of goodies via many of our friends and neighbors. My health-conscious brother, who normally considers kale chips and desiccated prune pulp a bit wild and reckless, has discovered and shipped whole bagfuls of chocolate chip cookies that claim to be as healthy as they are tasty, while my spouse, who has dedicated big chunks of our married life to making me eat right, has been quick to trot out hearty helpings of things like chocolate-covered, bacon-wrapped jelly beans if I'll just agree to eat them.
But along with the edible goodies that have headed my way are an equally sweet stream of greetings and good wishes and hugs and prayers from those same beloved friends, neighbors and family members. And while they are all much appreciated and entirely treasured, I can't help but find the messages I receive from a certain most special group of people the most amazing of all.
Like the letters I receive from total strangers.
Every once in awhile, a look in my mailbox reveals a note or card from someone I've never met before.
"Who's it from?" she asks.
"Well," I reply. "I don't really know."
But I do. And that's what's good about cancer.
Because I have discovered that I live in a world where some people are nice and thoughtful and just plain good enough to take a minute to do something incredibly kind.
To send good wishes.
To reach out.
To express some hope.
To share a prayer.
And when it happens, I realize just how lucky I am.
"Who's it from? she asks. "A fan?"
Then we laugh.
Not a fan.