As the case may be, another boss / client of mine has nicknamed me ‘Angel’. One of the designers on a project of ours has also taken to calling me that. My boss / client always suggest to me that I should embrace this persona more. I tend to use wings a lot in my work. Something that comes out of me constantly since the Cancer 3 years ago. I always kind of fought it. You know me and my God shit. The ultimate love / hate relationship in my life.
This same boss / client, we’ll call her Madame Painterly, always refers to the work she thinks is important as my “angel duties.” She is also the one trying to help me get this studio space. The landlord loves my winged work as well, she talked me up quite a bit. He thinks they could use angel wings in the building.
Shy was here today. He’s been assisting me with my easier business stuff. Like today he was stamping tags for me onto scrapbook paper. I have known Shy for about a decade. We use to work together. At some point he got fired from that job and never fully recovered from that. His anxiety has been slowly getting worse over the years. I think one of the reasons why we’re still friends is because I understand his level of fear and anxiety. He has hit a point in his life where things have to get better for him. He has succumb to starting therapy this past week. He also just started a new job at a thrift store last week. I also try and give him little bit of work when I can afford to pay him. Today he was here and talking about a sick relative he was very close to. He started to cry and just crumbled. I’ve never ever seen him like this. I literally tripped over my tray table and knocked the stamping stuff to the floor. I was so shocked I knocked over everything trying to get to him fast enough to hug him. He was just so broken.
Shy poured his heart out. He didn’t know what to do. He was afraid his relative would pass soon. His Mom showed up at his new job today at the thrift store and told him this relative had taken a turn for the worst. He was really scared. He talked more then I’d ever seen and just let it all out. When he was done The Smoker and The Ex were there. They were meeting us for dinner. We all went out. I pulled The Smoker aside and told him what had happened. That I felt like this was going to happen now.
We came back from dinner and just as we were finishing up Shy checked his phone and saw his mother had called. It happened. Poor Shy went into a nervous frenzy followed by more tears and just shock. I sat with him and cried with him. I got him water. I tried to feed him. I knew we just ate. The emotional eater in me was just like – oh right, food, he needs food. No food. He kept saying I don’t know what to do. The Smoker and The Ex went outside for a while. I guess they were shocked too. They hadn’t been there for the first part of this. They took a moment to deal before coming back in. The Ex had just lost is grandfather last month, so he was relating on a different level.
This is Shy’s first death. I had experienced my own first, last year with Pop, my step grandfather passing away. I took care of my sister during that time. The second she left my house I couldn’t dig myself out of that weird somber feeling where nothing feels right. Like living in a colorized film. You can cover it in color – but it’s still just black and white with shit all over it. I drank for 2 months straight and cried. The guilt of why didn’t I do more with them, the realization of they will never be there again, the frightening feeling of facing mortality and knowing one day you will die. Poor Shy.
This feels like my angel duties this week. I told him I’d leave my phone on for the next few days. As someone who’s sense of fear is already pretty heightened, I can’t imagine how much scarier this experience must be for him.
Every time I hear that someone has succumb to Cancer, I always have this heart sinking reaction. How? How is it that I am still here in this world and another soul is gone. Why did I live and they die?
When I was in the hospital getting treated, I use to see things. Things I could never explain. In my room, in the hallways. All around my floor for gynological Cancer. It always looked like children bathed in bright light. It use to make me cry. When I tell people this story, I chalk it up to the different meds I was on at the time. I still think about it…
Biggigity Switch 
Poor Shy. My heart goes out to him. As for you, you ARE an angel. Don’t you know, getting cancer gives you spidey powers? Yours are your amazing artistic abilities and your angel duties. G-d doesn’t give us cancer without leaving us with a little something extra. You go, angel! Xox
Well my Spidey sense has been going off a lot lately. It started with meeting people and in the first few minutes they would cry and break down and tell me these tragic things that had happened to them. Now this. I guess my cancer gift is a nice one. The gift of comfort. I’m going to check in on Shy later on. He sent me a text last night that he was hanging in there. Just trouble sleeping. I reminded him it was probably because he sucked down a Rockstar energy drink while we were working. ❤
How is your recovery going Nosoygirl? I hope your taking it easy and well!!!
Oh, girlfriend. I just has a huge operation a week ago having my surgical mesh explanted. It was infected and making me really sick for a long, long time. Then I had a reaction to the surgical adhesive they used to close me, even after I told them I was allergic to it. I need to get back to my blog. You know how that goes. I’m feeling really fragile, Angelcakes.