Writing Prompt:
“The answers you seek never come when the mind is busy, they come when the mind is still, when silence speaks the loudest” – Leon Brown
“Silence! You are no longer welcome in my home or near my child.”
Silence…
No more invitations to Tuesday night dinner
No more group text
No more Sunday pickleball.
No more Facebook recipes group.
Silence…
The sisterhood of fifteen years who knows:
where my will is hidden in my freezer,
the game plan for when my mom passes,
the reason I planned to grow old in Los Angeles.
Silence…
At first it was shock,
How, but it’s cancer, wait, what?
I shook for days.
Cancer hates stress.
“Alexis, I’m prescribing ativan, you need to relax, your body needs calm.”
Silence…
An old new friend climbed onto my back as I cried into my pillow.
I couldn’t stop shaking.
I don’t understand.
What did I do wrong?
How?
What?
Silence…
Anger,
I was angry.
“No appointments until May.”
Angry.
“Haven’t approved your blood work.”
Angry.
“No you can’t see this doctor.”
Angry.
“No this is not urgent.”
Appeals.
They wrote: “rapidly dividing cells is not considered an emergency.”
Messages, appeals, no return calls, no information, misinformation,
My mother’s Alzheimers, fires, new president,
Mental break.
Silence…
Months pass. Surgery.
The sting subsides. The shaking stops.
Some mornings I still wake up with tears in my eyes.
But other mornings I am calm.
Silence…
Maslow’s hierarchy.
They are just trying to get by and it’s already hard enough.
They like neat boxes,
I was always an outlier.
Me, cancer, my rage, my fear,
It was too much.
That text I sent to the one I was closest to,
Who was trying to help.
“F**k this, f**k that, f**k the world, f**k the group” —
she must have shared it with them.
Did they know it was the 6th time I tried to get my genetic testing…
Do they know how it feels to know your body is killing you,
To truly not have any idea if you can save yourself?
Silence…
Fight or flight,
I fought.
I’ve had to take care of too many,
had too much stress,
too many bumps.
I was messy.
It’s okay.
Silence…
It’s the annual holiday Secret Santa,
One of us is missing,
I’m really worried about her.
I suggest we create a fund to help her get therapy,
They agree we will buy her a sweatshirt.
Silence…
I’ve never felt like I had community here
and yet leaned so much into these women.
A group so tight we even gave ourselves a name.
Silence…
He told me they were the first cancer
and when they left it was the beginning of removing the tumor.
Silence…
Tuesday is now just another night.
I don’t miss the recipes I can’t access anymore.
I’m not even sure what they would do at this point
Silence…
Chemo begins.
It’s been almost six months.
Silence…
Dear friend, old new friend,
would you mind if I just go to this infusion alone?
It’s getting more and more challenging,
and I would just like to sit alone
In silence.
By Alexis Fish
CSCLA’s weekly Creative Writing Group takes place every Wednesday over Zoom from 1-3PM.
To learn more about our group listing and how to join, click HERE.
