The Road Home

My friend N. died of colon cancer after 3 years of chemo, and I sat days upon days in the hospital and later with her during the last hospice days at home. This draft isn’t art but it’s raw emotion.

Oct 04, 2023

I read, I doodled, I sketched by N.’s bedside as she received chemo or slept. We talked and laughed and cried about what came next. Fortunately she was in denial though I think we both knew the road ahead was uphill. She passed in 2007, and I miss her sweet smile when we shared memories from our adjoining classrooms. She was a a warrior, not a feel-sorry-for-me cancer patient. She lived life with gusto and humor until the end.

It’s still a heartbreak so much so that when I was cleaning out my drawer this week, I trembled and teared up finding this draft. My friend had given me art supplies for a birthday (why I’m not sure, but perhaps she was hinting I should use them)?

One day N. said, “Hey, Kiddo, bring your pencil and sketchbook to the hospital today.” I laughed. She knew I had been trying to sketch and paint my dogs. I thought she wanted me to sketch her critters, and she knew I would try to do anything she asked.

When I arrived, I saw on her bed an old photo of a little girl in a white dress standing on a dirt road. It was precious because it was my friend, and the B&W photo was dog-eared because she had carried it in her wallet over time. She had never seen the photo until it was found in her father’s wallet after he died. She was his baby girl, and she found the photo a comforting link to him.

My friend and I talked and talked until she fell asleep. We didn’t discuss art, and I was relieved. I did study and think about how important photos you can hold in your hand become. On cell phones and in the Cloud, it’s not the same at all.

After N. awakened, she said how did it go? The sketch? I knew I had to begin. My art background up to that point was about admiring the classic artists like Monet, Michelangelo, Van Gogh and visiting art museums. My dog drawings were based on photos easy to sketch. My anxiety grew because I knew her deadline was probably tomorrow because she was asking about Heaven these last few days.

The draft sketch she loved so much, I never had time to do a real final copy. When she died, her family treasured it, and I haven’t seen the old sketch or her family since 2007. This is my photocopy.

So, what is happening in this sketch exactly? Apparently one day N. ran away from home to see the river at the end of the road. She’d often been there fishing with her grandfather. Wearing her Sunday best white dress, she took a basket with cookies and her teddy bear. Her older sister snapped a Brownie camera photo from a window and ran to retrieve N. before their parents freaked out.