Tag Archives: Greta

I Only Want What’s Best For You



October 5, 2004

Hi MB,

Let me answer some of your questions from your morning e-mail.

I didn’t like the ending of “Good in Bed” because it ended so quickly. I guess I wanted more for her than how it ended.

“Lovely Bones” was hard for me because it dealt with rape and a child was murdered. I am a big advocate for protecting children. I did like the dialogue of how she saw her family and how she wanted to help them heal from her death.

Based on what you shared in your e-mail, I’m not sure severe sexual harassment is the correct term. Either way it doesn’t matter because it was still a horrible experience. I would like to have you tell me the whole story if you can. I would feel privileged to have you share it with me.

I hope that our friendship can help you see what it is God sees in you. I hope I can be used by God to help heal some of your pain. I want you to experience the joy and love that God has to offer and no the dark and depressed stuff the world has given you.

Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. I just have bad days now and then and sometimes I can’t hide them from you.

Do you think Alex might let you get away for a weekend? I have though about something for the two of us. I think it would be good for both of us. I’ll tell you more when you get back to Pennsylvania.

Before I go, I just read and printed your list. It brought tears to my eyes. It also reminded me of some of the things I told myself, so let’s talk more about it. My feelings and thoughts for you haven’t changed because of the list. If anything they have gotten deeper.



Later that same day


I just realized that I may have been a little more serious in my last e-mail. My intentions are not to get you to do all this thinking while you are away. I also know it isn’t easy when you can’t talk through some of the things you might be thinking about.

So if you want to go to lighter subjects until you get home, that is fine with me. But I know how much you like to write how you are feeling and thinking. If you want to e-mail me your thoughts and feelings and not have me reply, then just let me know. I hope this is making sense. If not, I am sorry. I don’t want to cause any more emotional upheaval, especially when we can’t through it because you are not here.

Kat, I only want what is best for you. Can you tell the hormones from the cancer treatment have kicked in big time? I get very emotional when that happens, so please bear with me. At least it is better than me getting cranky.

Well, I better wrap things up and get home to dig up my garden. We are expecting frost tonight and my tomatoes are rotting on the vines because of all the rain.

Until I hear from you…good night, Moonbeam.





I Can’t Hear You! Na, Na, Na, Na, Na!

There are moments in life when you don’t want to hear what’s being said. You want to put your hands over your ears, close your eyes, and sing loudly to drown out the words. Greta had acted strangely for the last few days. She was cranky, out-of-sorts, snappish. A ticklish dread formed in the back of my mind, but I refused to pay it any mind. If I ignored it, it wasn’t true. It’s like a child who closes their eyes and think that you can’t see them. I was the child closing my eyes.

I had only known Greta for three months by now, but it had been an intense three months. We e-mailed back and forth every day, multiple times a day. We talked every night on the phone. We started sharing our darkest secrets and our deepest thoughts. But I was skeptical of the friendship. I wondered if she would stick around for the long haul. Or was I a passing whim that would be dumped when things got too difficult or messy? It happened before and I expected it to happen again. Friends weren’t my specialty. Especially since Alex limited them once we were married. I never thought someone would want to be friends with me once they knew the “real me.” With Greta, there was an emotional draw, a bond that felt deeper than some friendships I had for years. It’s like we were making up for lost time. I panicked that I was going to lose Greta.

My car was in the shop getting new tires and an oil change. My husband, Alex, didn’t have the time to pick it up, so it was left up to me. Greta offered to give me a ride. We took a break from work in the afternoon and headed off to the car dealer.

“You’re awfully quiet, Kat. What’s on your mind? Do you want to talk about it?” Greta asked.

“Nah, I’m good. Just thinking.” My stomach clenched, full of wiggly worms boring nervous holes into it. I had a question to ask, but I didn’t want to hear the answer. I suspected what it would be and dreaded knowing the truth. I tried to convince myself that I was better off not knowing. I white-knuckled my purse straps as it sat on my lap.

We rode in silence most of the way. As the dealer was in sight, I told Greta that I had a question to ask her.

“Okay. What’s the question? It must be important if you’ve thought this hard about it!” She laughed lightly, chiding me for my silence on the car drive. She pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. I looked at her for a moment, worry pinching my brow.

I took a deep breath and blurted,”Do you have cancer again?” She started, surprised the sudden question.

“Yes, I do. I was waiting for the right time to tell you,” Greta replied quietly.


I bolted out of the car and ran.