Just down the street

I ran into her husband at the mall today.  His eyes said it all.  Exhausted.  Mentally, physically, emotionally. Everything in me wanted to give him a hug.  I didn't.  I have never had a real conversation with him, just a "Hi!  How's it goin'?" as he checked the mail, so a hug seemed a bit too much.  He was there with his son.  They were shopping for school clothes and his sister, here from San Francisco, was helping.  Trying to do something normal, trying to cope, trying to ease the pain.  His wife, just down the street, is in her last days.  Cancer has overtaken her body.  The two week trip to Germany filled with hope and anticipation had her return in more pain and no less cancer.  She fought, but she is done fighting now.  Hospice has come in.  She stopped eating and her body is shutting down.  I only talked to her a handful of times, we aren't close friends, but I can't seem to shake it.  I think about her (and her family) all the time.  She's in her early thirties, was a teacher, and her boy will be four the end of next month. Perhaps those commonalities make it hit close to home. My heart aches.  It aches for her husband who will soon become a single dad.  It aches for her baby who will celebrate his fourth birthday and every one after that without his Mommy.  It aches for her as she wants her last days to be with her family, but she doesn't have the strength to actually be with them.  It is a different world within their four walls and they are just down the street.