Four Weekends and a Funeral

by Ellie Palmer

“Skydiving is ridiculous. Why would I voluntarily participate in a flight’s worst-case scenario? If you’re not exiting a plane on the ground, something’s gone horribly wrong.”

I didn’t have cancer, yet, I thought. I could’ve risked it. I could’ve waited until I had someone who loved me with breasts before forcing them to love me without them.

“You’re kind of my favorite new person, if that’s not too weird a thing to say.”

But you know what was so much more terrifying than owing a debt to the universe? Realizing it’s all random. And that’s the truth, there’s nothing to pay or prove. We’re all just living.”

“You don’t need to prove you deserve your life to me or anyone. You deserve it, because everyone does. When they die or get sick or have to get a mastectomy, it’s not because they deserve it. It’s not fair, and it’s random. There’s nothing we can do other than live how we want to live.”

“How am I supposed to know if any time is a good time for anything? Does anyone? You just have to make the choices that feel true to the life you want and hope like hell it will all work out.”

To my mom, who took on both cancer and raising teenage me with grace and humor (never tell me which was worse), thank you for encouraging me to dream and for teaching me to face the scary, hard things.