When a loved one dies and grief follows, it is such a strange time:

A familiar world is shattered, and there is no sense to be made of anything. For a while, numbness has you living on automatic pilot.

When the shock passes, the deeper painful feelings dig in, and still, you have to go on living, even though you may not want to.

It just hurts so much.

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

When it's 'the' cancer instead of 'my' cancer, I can relate to others with the same difficulty, and I can send compassion into the cancer rather than helplessly avoiding it and turning its pain to suffering. When it's 'my' cancer, 'my' AIDS, I am isolated from the source of my greatest comfort. I am locked in with my suffering.