I didn't really know her.
I don't know what color her hair was -- she was wearing a headwrap to cover her baldness.
I don't know what color her skin was -- the disease sucked the blood from her, so her skin appeared pale and paper-thin.
I don't know what body she had -- if she ever had any fat, it was all long gone by the time we met.
I do know she was the nicest, most gracious lady I ever met. She would always answer to my "How are you?" with "Not bad", though it clearly was a lie. She would suffer, but always manage to produce a faint smile on her face.
Last time we met she said goodbye to everybody and headed for the door. She was struggling with her steps, but didn't ask for help since she didn't want to inconvenience anybody. I offered her my hand, and she reluctantly accepted it, though she was trying not to put much of her weight on me. She was telling me how the new chemo she started managed to push her platelet count down to the fourties. I told her to stay away from sharp and prickly objects. Her ride arrived, she said "Thank you" and that was the last time I saw her.
Yesterday I was looking for her but she wasn't there. Later her husband walked in and started talking. I could hear bits "she was fond of this place; she said people here were the best" and thought "why is he speaking of her in the past tense? did something happen?" Unfortunately, he said yes, she passed away. Rest in peace, Marina! Or, as we say in Belarusian, "сьветлая памяць!"

Time flies like an arrow

Time flies like an arrow -- and fruit flies like a banana!

I stopped writing for a short while, and now almost a whole month passed.
My health seems to be better, especially that I'm done with treatments (at least for now). I'm doing Chi Gong breathing almost every day, it seems to help.

As for tango, maestro Cabral was in Boston, teaching workshops. Here's an old clip of him, demonstrating a simple tango walk. Nothing can be harder than that!