If I had a hammer....

This morning I sat on my front porch talking to my friend up in NY. I hadn't heard from her in a while, but I knew she was going through cancer treatments (again) and while the treatments are going on, she tends to just hibernate, relax, rest. But still, it had been a good long while since her last eMail to me and I couldn't stand not hearing, not knowing, so rather than send another eMail, I just got on the phone.

She talked, I talked..... we both laughed. Whenever we talk, it's as if we had seen each other just yesterday. While she told me about the treatments, my eyes focused on a group of nails on the boards of the front porch. The nail-heads were sticking up just the teeniest little bit from the wood planks. I have no idea why I noticed them. Mostly, I was looking out over the fields on our property while we talked, wishing that she could be there on the porch with me, hearing the barn swallows, watching the egrets at the edge of the pond, looking at the branches of the pecan trees growing heavier with nuts as each week passes.

We talked.... and talked.... she started coughing.... her voice sounded pained... the cough sounded coarse and sand-papery. This friend and I haven't been at a loss for words since 1972, but I thought it might be time to bring the phone call to an end so she could rest her voice, her throat, her mind. The birds were still up in the pecan trees, the egrets were still at the edge of the pond. The nail-heads were still sticking up just the teeniest bit from the planks of the front porch.

As always, when I talk to this friend of mine, the talking part is so easy, the good-bye part is very hard. I kept my eyes on the nail-heads, trying to keep my voice steady and my mind calm. It didn't work. She heard the catch in my voice, and I wondered if she knew that my hands were shaking as well. Take care of yourself. Please come visit when you can. Sit on the porch with me. I love you.

I closed up the cell phone after we said our good-byes. I watched the egrets at the pond. One of the barn swallows had captured a spider. I went in the house, into the kitchen and got the hammer out of the little basket of tools that are kept in the corner cabinet. Back out to the front porch I went, and I sat on the wood planks of the porch.

The hammer found the nail-heads that were sticking up just a tiny tiny bit..... I have never ever banged a hammer down on any nail so hard in all of my life. The sounds of that hammer probably echoed in all of the hills. I scared the barn swallows and I heard them flying away, out of the trees and on towards the pond. Along with each blow of that hammer, a tear rolled down my face and fell onto the boards, leaving a wet design of random polka-dots. I set the hammer down on the porch and sat there hugging my knees until the tears quit.

Nails going into a wood board. Easy.

Chemo going into a human body. Not easy.

My friend doesn't think what she's doing is brave. I disagree.