Good Friday Jukebox

7 years ago we had a particularly magical Carnevale. It's always big fun but that year was especially raucous. At one point Abba came on over the stereo and everyone in the room started dancing. I was dancing with my beautiful friend ChouChou, who is always the sedate one. We were laughing and talking, totally in the moment. I looked at her and then around the room. It felt like something out of a movie. I said something to her like, "Don't we have the best friends ever?"

"We sure do," she smiled.

A few weeks later, that dancing moment came back to me. I was on the phone with ChouChou when her other line rang and I listened as her doctor confirmed that her brain cancer was back.

In the coming weeks I remember that Abba moment a lot. I claimed it in my prayers. ChouChou was too young, too vibrant, too important to die. She'd beat that frakking thing before, she had to do it again.

By Easter all the tests had been done, surgery was scheduled and I had shaved my head in solidarity. (Turns out, they decided not to do chemo but since part of her head would be shaved for surgery I did it anyway).

When the Carnevale group convened for Easter dinner we did something unusual. We gathered around ChouChou with holy water and we laid hands on her and prayed. We prayed for her healing. We prayed hard. The cancer was a tricky one and it was near her eye, which complicated the potential outcome. Even if they got all the cancer she could end up blind. All our love for her and all our faith poured out. Then we ate ham.

Surgery was scheduled for the coming week. Her husband was to call me when it was over so I could pass along the word to our group.

About an hour after the surgery was to begin John called. It was way too early.

"Her surgery is rescheduled," he said.

"What?"

Turns out, the xrays taken that morning didn't match the map the surgeons had created based on her first tests. The tumor had moved. It was no longer anywhere near her eye. It wasn't gone, but it had moved. They had to wait to remap the site. You call it what you like. I believe it was a miracle.

ChouChou had her surgery and they patched up her head with skin and muscle from her arm. She still has the scars but she wears them gratefully because 7 years later she remains cancer free. Yep. She beat it twice.

I always remember that experience during Lent: the fear and worry, the tears and prayer and the miracle. Our little group walked into the desert together that year, everyone's Lenten experience became a shared one as we focused on ChouChou. We shared, too, in her miracle, a kind of resurrection, if you will. The experience, on balance, sucked. But it changed all of us for the better.

"Life is better than an Abba song; it's better than 'Dancing Queen'". - Toni Colette, "Muriel's Wedding"



Abba "Dancing Queen"