A better person
Nancy Rommelmann, as per usual, gets it exactly right. Her post about our friend Cathy is spot-on.
I think of her rather as a dance mistress in this. Her friends who knew about the cancer reacted with varying degrees of emotional spasticity: to ask or not to ask about the new chemo? Is bringing over more food annoying or nice? Oh my god, Maia? How much crying is not okay? But whether in person or psychically, one sensed Cathy clapping her hands, and saying, “None of this. We are not going to freak out; we are not going to lie on the floor and throw a tantrum. We are going to do this dance this way.”
Cathy’s 16-year-old daughter, Maia Lazar, posts at her own blog:
When people asked me how my mom was faring, even her friends, I figured it was better to sugarcoat the truth just so life seemed easier. Whenever I was sad at school, I always tried my best to hide it and be there for my friends. In short, being a friend was a healthy distraction from my own family problems. What reminds me of my mother. She would never bitch or complain too much about her illness. The only things she would rant about were editors, people, or situations.
Our friend, journalist Matt Welch, writes:
Her friends have known for years, and she has refused to either let it define her or curtail her work. She might think it crass of me for pointing it out, but please note that there’s a Paypal button on the upper right of her site.
One of Cathy’s own comments, made at a party in LA before I knew her, about this whole stupid situation is the best, though, because it’s just so Cathy:
I just want to let everyone know that having cancer hasn’t made me a better person.