Bravery

Do you ever feel brave? I sure don't. I like things to be stable. I prefer when things are easy. I don't like confrontation. I don't like to admit when I am scared, overwhelmed, or uncertain. There are few people that I confide these things to - and I miss one of the bravest people that I have ever known fiercely.

Last weekend, my family and I went to the play Kazoo by a local playwright, Matt Falduto. The main character loses her mom and the story is about her best friends being there for her and helping her choose the bravery of living. I didn't lose my mom - I lost one of my best friends. She was brave. She fought cancer with a positive attitude, accepted everything that happened, and finally was free of suffering by passing on, but that left an emptiness in me, our circle of friends, and her family that will never be fully gone.

She was brave because she never stopped living. She was brave because she kept living even when she knew the cancer would win. She was brave because she admitted to her doctor that she was sad and crying a lot. She was brave because she asked for help when she needed rides to her appointments. She was brave because she called her close friends and family and said, "I have cancer." She was brave because she fought not one type of cancer, but two types. She was brave because she asked for prayers. She was brave for so many reasons and I want to be brave like she was, but I sure don't feel brave.

I am not fighting cancer. I don't have to be that brave. I need to make some life decisions that require bravery though. I want to be brave enough to quit my job and launch a full-time writing career. I want to be brave enough to not have a steady income. I want to live more courageously. I want to be brave.