R.I.P. Tamara Soto

Many of you didn't know her.  She was a great friend and a creative person.  She was the kind of person that was so gentle and kind-hearted, that when she told us she had cancer, I raged at the universe for doing this to someone so nice, so pure.

She had two types, one was rather aggressive.  She fought all the way, and kept trying to smile.  She felt terrible when her friends hovered or worried, because she felt guilty for making them upset. Her husband is a patient, brave man, and was supportive the entire time.  As of Friday, Tamara's fight was over.  Now she can rest.

Something I have discovered from this experience, is how important it is to keep going.  I remember on 9/11, I was at work, glued to the radio and the internet, in shock and panic, weeping.  My coworkers stayed on task, and at the time, I was sickened by how callous everyone seemed to be.  Now as I deal with my grief over Tamara, it occurs to me that staying busy in a time of tragedy is an important coping mechanism for many people.  I am reminded of ants, when someone kicks over the anthill.  On the outset the ants that rush forth seem to be in a panic, but if you look closely, they are all rushing to secure the territory, and rebuild the mound as fast as possible.  Each insect has a duty, a function, and even if other insect have died, they keep moving, and keep working.  The ants restore order so that things are quickly back to normal, and the colony continues to thrive.

On a certain level, people are the same.  When violent change occurs, many people focus on getting things back to normal, adapting to a new environment if necessary.  It's like the instinct similar to ants, in that normalcy must be restored if we are to survive.

I am trying to be like that... trying to focus on work, on art, on the convention I was just at this weekend.  It was a great event, and I was glad to be a part of such a fun team, doing such a fun convention.  It was much-needed distraction.  I also try to keep in mind that she doesn't want me to cry, that she would want me to go out and live, and be happy.  It's not easy.  I have moments of weakness.  I am thankful that I have my wife and my friends.  I keep going for them, and for her.  I also try to keep in mind that cancer doesn't win when someone dies, it wins when someone gives up.

I love you Tamara.

BTW, if you happen to run into cancer today, be sure to give it a tall middle finger and a gritty "FUCK YOU" for me.  I'd appreciate it.