Fall Harvest Moon
The Woolly Mammoths, together now over 25 years, have entered the third and last phase of life, the autumn/winter years in which the final harvest begins to bend toward the grave. We have, so far, been able to remark on this reality from the outside, fortunate in our health and in our spouse’s health. That is no longer so.
Regina got her diagnosis of stage 4 cancer while Bill was in a Woolly meeting. We knew it from the beginning. She’s done well and poorly, shown up at events since then and been asked about at others. Bill has, from the beginning, embraced the process, sometimes trembling, buttressed by a chiropractor’s suggestion that before all else, “He love Regina.” Thus, whatever happens at this point, as Regina lies in the ICU of Hennepin General, he has leaned into loving Regina, a comfort.
Her illness is no surprise, hers in particular, yes, but a potentially terminal illness that’s part of the body’s journey in this last phase of our lives, no. This is not a test. This is not a test of the Woolly Mammoth emergency hearfelt system. A potentially life-threatening situation has been spotted. It will not be the last.