two hands

A Bag of Food and Tears

My sigh of relief is audible all the way from the street on Thursday afternoons as I pull a healthy, homemade meal out of the cooler on my front porch.

This meal is there every week. It is constant. It is nourishing. I can depend on it. It makes my night doable, just at the end of the week when I am exhausted. It reminds me that five years into this cancer thing, we are still…