and so I turn the big Six-O....
I arrived at the radiation oncology clinic at my usual time. I chatted with one of the technicians; she talked about retiring soon, I said I'd like to give it another 10 - 20 years and see if I could get "good" at my work, and she laughed.
A few minutes later, they called me in, but it wasn't for treatment: they sang "happy birthday," gave me hugs and treats to start my day. I was tearful.
It's my 22nd day of radiation; I have 22 more to go. I'm halfway there.
I saw Mr. Weeks, wished him well, and gave him the pack of ginger goodies I got for him: tea, chewies, hard candies, chocolates.... he was very happy. It's Mr. Weeks last day, so it's unlikely I'll see him again.
Son and I drove to the cemetery, a 90 minute drive. We talked a lot about our family, the grandparents he didn't know. At the graves, I took out the tallit I had made, and we wrapped ourselves in white cotton. I told him we couldn't pray, because you're not supposed to do it alone, so we stood and let our souls become part of the warp and woof of the fabric.