The Last Super Bowl

My friend came up from Florida this weekend.  She moved there eight years ago.  Just like her visit four years ago, it was as if I had seen her only the day before and the years that punctuated her visits seem to vanish within minutes of her arrival. It was great to catch up and enjoy a glass of wine together, indulge in our love of ethnic foods and visit our old haunts.

But this was not the carefree visit of four years ago.  This trip was bittersweet.  The primary purpose of this trip was to see a dear friend who was told 14 months ago that she only had twelve months to live.  My friend was able to spend some time visiting with her friend and I joined them for lunch on Friday.  After hearing the most up-to-date report on her cancer, I was pleasantly surprised how good she looked and was somehow comforted that she still had her great sense of humor, even if she joked too much about death for my friend's liking. We had a great time together. We talked candidly about her illness and then, in the next minute, laughed and joked as if we didn't have a care in the world.  It was a good time and a special moment for us.

It was at lunch that I learned that my friend from Florida would be spending Sunday evening at her friend's house for a Super Bowl party. It bothered my friend a great deal that she was referring to it as her Last Super Bowl, but I guess she was just being honest and of course, she was joking about it.

My friend reported that the party was a great time.  Her friend made a nice dinner and then shuffled everyone into game watching position.  She handled out beads and pom-poms.  In an effort to reverse the Steeler's luck, she ordered everyone to remove the necklaces (because that had worked once before). She was totally into it, waving her pom-poms and cursing bad plays.  She quipped that the Steelers could have at least WON her Last Super Bowl.

After hearing all about the party, I thought about how someone could be full of life yet still be dying.  I thought about how she managed to be so funny and spirited while facing so much uncertainty. Does she look at every day past the 12 month prognosis as a freebie or is she listening for the other shoe to drop?  I see a quiet strength in her that gets her through the aches, discomforts, side-effects and hassles of chemo to put a smile on each day.  Or maybe it's having that ability to still smile and laugh that gives her strength.  Either way, she is a wonderful person and she awes me.

In the end, it didn't really matter if the Steelers won or lost.  The Last Super Bowl was still a success.  It brought two dear friends together for what could be the last time and showed how important it is, despite adversity, to put on the beads, shake those pom-poms and live in the moment because no one really knows when it's going to be the Last Super Bowl.