Five Lessons From Chocolate, Almonds, and Pop

             I was eleven years old when I learned a secret that continues to shape my life and challenge me.

            Back in 1961, I was in Sister Clareen’s sixth grade class at Our Lady of Sorrows School. It was almost dismissal time one day when Sister reached into her big wooden desk and pulled out an object about as long as a twelve-inch ruler, but much thicker.

            Sister Clareen held up the thing. Its white wrapper said “World’s Finest Chocolate.” Then she began walking up and down the rows of desks, gliding like she always did, as if she were on ball bearings, her long black habit floating behind her. While she walked, she waved the thing in front of each kid’s nose.

Don't tell her when she's gonna die

My friend Nancy has been fighting terminal pancreatic cancer for more than a year. She's had the requisite rounds of chemo that weakened her tremendously. She lost a ton of weight and often her blood count wasn't good enough for her to undergo chemo.

I started visiting her once a week about a half-year ago. During that time, her doctor gave her a timeline for her life that would have had her dying this July 2011. July is two days away.