As the leaves float down
And Summer comes to a close,
I sit in silent contemplation.
Once a sign of death,
Signalling the coming rebirth,
Now filled with trepidation.
The world, my world,
The things that mean the most,
Crumbling at my feet.
The oaks I leaned on,
For strength and love
Rapidly retreat.
The solid roots
That support
Poisoned by mistake
The jagged wind
Carries toxic waste
Oh how my heart breaks
There is no oncoming spring,
No hope of to speak.
The darkness falls, the mighty oak cries
And the world, my world, is left bleak.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
Tapped
Been awhile. Currently in the middle of the mother of all adult meltdowns. Once before in my life, have I ever said that I could not take anymore. Today, I said it again. I can't. Before you all freak out and worry about us, it has nothing to do with the kids. It's just a ton of personal crap and we can't catch a break. I feel like we are being pelted with hundreds of concrete bricks from every direction. NOTHING can go right.
Kids treatment: messed up due to circumstances beyond our current control.
Housing: Nobody knows if there is even a solution to that.
Friends: They all seem to be having the mother of bad moods, for various good reasons, but burdening them does nothing but add more to them.
Family: Kids are doing ok right now, but we had a death. My father is not doing well. My mother, as she should, is putting him first.
We have no time to breathe. There is no reprieve. We are in the middle of a meteor storm and there is nowhere to take cover. We need a safe place. We need some sort of security or sense of it right now and it is nowhere. People want to help, but they can't. We are just drowning in a sea of concrete. The ones we need to help: I am betting that won't happen.
We are facing a dark tunnel. A lot of stuff is about to go down for us and we have no footing. We are just teetering along and hoping it all goes well. Hope only goes so far. You have to take action and we have no course. Just, feeling really helpless right now.
I am not usually this down, but it's been a HELL of a month. It's been a hell of a year. I thought it would at least even out, but it just gets worse and more stressful. And it hurts. It hurts me to say I can't take anymore, because I am not a weak little thing. I have always been strong, but I am tapped.
Kids treatment: messed up due to circumstances beyond our current control.
Housing: Nobody knows if there is even a solution to that.
Friends: They all seem to be having the mother of bad moods, for various good reasons, but burdening them does nothing but add more to them.
Family: Kids are doing ok right now, but we had a death. My father is not doing well. My mother, as she should, is putting him first.
We have no time to breathe. There is no reprieve. We are in the middle of a meteor storm and there is nowhere to take cover. We need a safe place. We need some sort of security or sense of it right now and it is nowhere. People want to help, but they can't. We are just drowning in a sea of concrete. The ones we need to help: I am betting that won't happen.
We are facing a dark tunnel. A lot of stuff is about to go down for us and we have no footing. We are just teetering along and hoping it all goes well. Hope only goes so far. You have to take action and we have no course. Just, feeling really helpless right now.
I am not usually this down, but it's been a HELL of a month. It's been a hell of a year. I thought it would at least even out, but it just gets worse and more stressful. And it hurts. It hurts me to say I can't take anymore, because I am not a weak little thing. I have always been strong, but I am tapped.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Grief
I have been staring at this page for a good ten minutes. I don't even know where to start. My last post was about the health issues my father is facing. This post will be as well, but so much more. They say that cancer eats your body. What you don't hear as often is that it eats your soul, and the souls of those around you. I have spent a lot of time in the past few weeks in a pattern of acceptance. I don't accept that he is going to die, but I accept that I can't fix this. I have been fixing everything that I can fix, but this... I can't control it.
A month of chemo that didn't work. A month of toxic medications being pumped into my father like sewage, with no results. They think it has grown. He grows weaker with every day. Don't get me wrong, he still works most days, but he is pushing himself. They leave next week for a more extensive program, but the time is gone. The jump we had, vanished with first round.
My brother has moved back in. Once upon a time, I would have said it was because HE needed something, but he's changing. Something has grabbed hold of him and it's a blessing, whatever it is. He is helping around the house, doing what he can, and ultimately taking a weight off the shoulders of our dad. With that said, he's adding weight too. He's over 20 and can't hold a steady job. My dad is feeling like he failed him. My brother needs to get up and get a job, not only for him, but for his father too. Hope goes so far.
My mother has not healed from surgery yet, despite the time being well over recovery time. I imagine some of it is stress, but she also has multiple genuine issues of her own. She's the rock. She has always been solitary in dealing with her own emotions, or so she proclaims. In reality, I am a leveling stone for her. I always have been. It's unusual, but I accept it. She has been on disability for months. That is ending. She has some vacation, but her options are so limited at this point. She can't go on state disability because it is her insurance that is covering my father's medical costs. She is between a rock and a hard place. Even if her health was good and she could walk, mentally, she can't function. Yet, she has no choice. Her health versus his. For her, that isn't a choice. I don't disagree. If it was Puck, it wouldn't be a choice either.
I got a message today from a shared friend between my brother and I. He called and asked her to come get him because my mother broke down and he couldn't handle it. As is per usual, she did not call me, even if she should have. I called her and told her I was on my way. I got in my car without a second thought and made my way to settle my mother and comfort her.
I pulled up to the house to find my brother, lounging on his truck, at the top of the driveway. My mother's sudden rush of emotions startled him something good. At first, I lectured him about calling me if it happened again. We are a family. We are facing this together. Dad is being strong for us. We are being strong for him. However, my mother needs someone to lean on too. He understood, but there was a light in his eyes. I thought it was denial, but I was so wrong. I asked him if he knew what dad had. He said he knew it was stage four lung cancer and that it was terminal. He said he felt like they were giving up and that the house was depressing. He is trying so hard to fix things too. I asked what else he knew. He didn't. Either he is not listening or they did not tell him, but I did. I told him it has moved to his bones and lymph nodes. I told him that NOBODY is giving up, but that we have to face what they are saying too. Life generates paperwork. We have to get it all in order. We have to have hope, but we have to prepare too. I don't think I have ever seen my brother cry. Today, I did. I told him that if he needed to talk, to call me. He said he deals with his own things without talking. I looked at him, knowing not to push him, and told him I understand that, but there will come a time he needs to talk and that I am here, and proceeded to go face my mother.
She was bawling in the kitchen. I lectured her about how this family is going to have to function like a teepee. We are all going to have to lean on each other at different times. Her and I are cut of the same cloth. We always have to fix and deal with things ourselves. This time, we can't do that. We need to be supportive of each other. It's not time to deal on our own. It's time to band together and hold on, come hell and high water. I got her settled in and she started talking. Tears streaming down her face. The PET scan to determine how far it has spread is tomorrow. She is scripting all of the things going on, and suddenly, the reality bomb drops.
"He's the center of my universe. When I was 22, I prayed and prayed for the one and I didn't find him until after I was 40."
There it is. There is the root of this all. There is the fear. She has been holding that in for, who knows how long, and for just a split moment, she let it out. It was all I needed. I took my mom in my arms and let her cry. I told her that I know how hard it is to face the loss of something you have prayed so hard for. I took her by the hands and told her, "Your prayers were answered. Maybe it was only six or seven years, but they were answered. This man changed your world; our world. And if eight years is all we have, then we make the best of it. We can't change it, but if 6 months or a year is all we have left, we can make sure we remember it."
She thanked me for coming over, even though she originally told me not to. I told her to stop being so damn stubborn and to call me if she gets like that again. We are going to have our hard days, but we don't have to have them alone. We ARE here for each other. I put a load of darks in the dryer and left. On the way home, I thought.
Tomorrow is the beginning of May. Tomorrow is the start of the hardest month of the year for me. May is my month of grief. It's the one month I allow myself to fall apart when I need to. I allow myself to grieve for my daughter. I find it interesting that I am giving advice on grief with ease right now.
Grief is so different. It's so unpredictable. My mother is grieving. My brother is grieving. My father is grieving. I think I am mopping up. I'm dealing with it, but I have been on the grief roller coaster for the better part of 11 years. When the time comes that nobody needs me, I will grieve. When there is no more running to someone's side to comfort them, I will break down. I am needed here. I may not be a crying mess like my mother, in denial like my brother, or silently suffering like my father, but I am where I am supposed to be in this big family wheel.
I have not told my children the extent of the situation. Well, I have not explained fully the odds and time tables. Right now, it's time to celebrate this man. It's time to play board games and draw silly things. When he can't do that, then it's time for movies and silly YouTube videos. There is a time for everything. There are seasons of life. Many people say we are born dying. While that is true, that is not our purpose. We are born to live. Really live.
We may not have the luxury of time on our side. Our family is facing the loss of one of the greatest people I have ever had the chance to know. We are all facing it differently, but we are not alone. I know when I lost my daughter, I felt alone. I felt very alone. As we roll into this month, heavy with grief again, I am more clear headed. Yes, I have my own grief, but right now, our family's blood is coursing with it. The time is coming. Soon, we will bring the children into the know. It will get harder. Until then, I will continue to see my degree in personal grief as a blessing. Losing my daughter was and never will be a blessing, but the emotions I face and the way that I see things now... They will serve me well in being who I need to be through this.
A month of chemo that didn't work. A month of toxic medications being pumped into my father like sewage, with no results. They think it has grown. He grows weaker with every day. Don't get me wrong, he still works most days, but he is pushing himself. They leave next week for a more extensive program, but the time is gone. The jump we had, vanished with first round.
My brother has moved back in. Once upon a time, I would have said it was because HE needed something, but he's changing. Something has grabbed hold of him and it's a blessing, whatever it is. He is helping around the house, doing what he can, and ultimately taking a weight off the shoulders of our dad. With that said, he's adding weight too. He's over 20 and can't hold a steady job. My dad is feeling like he failed him. My brother needs to get up and get a job, not only for him, but for his father too. Hope goes so far.
My mother has not healed from surgery yet, despite the time being well over recovery time. I imagine some of it is stress, but she also has multiple genuine issues of her own. She's the rock. She has always been solitary in dealing with her own emotions, or so she proclaims. In reality, I am a leveling stone for her. I always have been. It's unusual, but I accept it. She has been on disability for months. That is ending. She has some vacation, but her options are so limited at this point. She can't go on state disability because it is her insurance that is covering my father's medical costs. She is between a rock and a hard place. Even if her health was good and she could walk, mentally, she can't function. Yet, she has no choice. Her health versus his. For her, that isn't a choice. I don't disagree. If it was Puck, it wouldn't be a choice either.
I got a message today from a shared friend between my brother and I. He called and asked her to come get him because my mother broke down and he couldn't handle it. As is per usual, she did not call me, even if she should have. I called her and told her I was on my way. I got in my car without a second thought and made my way to settle my mother and comfort her.
I pulled up to the house to find my brother, lounging on his truck, at the top of the driveway. My mother's sudden rush of emotions startled him something good. At first, I lectured him about calling me if it happened again. We are a family. We are facing this together. Dad is being strong for us. We are being strong for him. However, my mother needs someone to lean on too. He understood, but there was a light in his eyes. I thought it was denial, but I was so wrong. I asked him if he knew what dad had. He said he knew it was stage four lung cancer and that it was terminal. He said he felt like they were giving up and that the house was depressing. He is trying so hard to fix things too. I asked what else he knew. He didn't. Either he is not listening or they did not tell him, but I did. I told him it has moved to his bones and lymph nodes. I told him that NOBODY is giving up, but that we have to face what they are saying too. Life generates paperwork. We have to get it all in order. We have to have hope, but we have to prepare too. I don't think I have ever seen my brother cry. Today, I did. I told him that if he needed to talk, to call me. He said he deals with his own things without talking. I looked at him, knowing not to push him, and told him I understand that, but there will come a time he needs to talk and that I am here, and proceeded to go face my mother.
She was bawling in the kitchen. I lectured her about how this family is going to have to function like a teepee. We are all going to have to lean on each other at different times. Her and I are cut of the same cloth. We always have to fix and deal with things ourselves. This time, we can't do that. We need to be supportive of each other. It's not time to deal on our own. It's time to band together and hold on, come hell and high water. I got her settled in and she started talking. Tears streaming down her face. The PET scan to determine how far it has spread is tomorrow. She is scripting all of the things going on, and suddenly, the reality bomb drops.
"He's the center of my universe. When I was 22, I prayed and prayed for the one and I didn't find him until after I was 40."
There it is. There is the root of this all. There is the fear. She has been holding that in for, who knows how long, and for just a split moment, she let it out. It was all I needed. I took my mom in my arms and let her cry. I told her that I know how hard it is to face the loss of something you have prayed so hard for. I took her by the hands and told her, "Your prayers were answered. Maybe it was only six or seven years, but they were answered. This man changed your world; our world. And if eight years is all we have, then we make the best of it. We can't change it, but if 6 months or a year is all we have left, we can make sure we remember it."
She thanked me for coming over, even though she originally told me not to. I told her to stop being so damn stubborn and to call me if she gets like that again. We are going to have our hard days, but we don't have to have them alone. We ARE here for each other. I put a load of darks in the dryer and left. On the way home, I thought.
Tomorrow is the beginning of May. Tomorrow is the start of the hardest month of the year for me. May is my month of grief. It's the one month I allow myself to fall apart when I need to. I allow myself to grieve for my daughter. I find it interesting that I am giving advice on grief with ease right now.
Grief is so different. It's so unpredictable. My mother is grieving. My brother is grieving. My father is grieving. I think I am mopping up. I'm dealing with it, but I have been on the grief roller coaster for the better part of 11 years. When the time comes that nobody needs me, I will grieve. When there is no more running to someone's side to comfort them, I will break down. I am needed here. I may not be a crying mess like my mother, in denial like my brother, or silently suffering like my father, but I am where I am supposed to be in this big family wheel.
I have not told my children the extent of the situation. Well, I have not explained fully the odds and time tables. Right now, it's time to celebrate this man. It's time to play board games and draw silly things. When he can't do that, then it's time for movies and silly YouTube videos. There is a time for everything. There are seasons of life. Many people say we are born dying. While that is true, that is not our purpose. We are born to live. Really live.
We may not have the luxury of time on our side. Our family is facing the loss of one of the greatest people I have ever had the chance to know. We are all facing it differently, but we are not alone. I know when I lost my daughter, I felt alone. I felt very alone. As we roll into this month, heavy with grief again, I am more clear headed. Yes, I have my own grief, but right now, our family's blood is coursing with it. The time is coming. Soon, we will bring the children into the know. It will get harder. Until then, I will continue to see my degree in personal grief as a blessing. Losing my daughter was and never will be a blessing, but the emotions I face and the way that I see things now... They will serve me well in being who I need to be through this.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
I need to heal
Some nights I get on here and have no idea where I am going with things. My mind is a jumble of emotions and choices and I cannot make sense of them. Tonight is one of those. So much is going on in my life. I wish that I could say it was a ton of exciting or happy stuff, but really, it's a pile of crap. We knew around the beginning of last month that this year was just going to suck, but I don't think I was ready for how bad.
Facing sickness, death, and fear is never fun, but I am feeling so lost. I have all goals in mind. I know the outcomes that I need and want, but not how to get there. I feel like I am wandering around aimlessly again. My kids, my wife, my father, my life... All are so prominent in my mind right now that I cannot separate one from another. It's like a ball of yarn that has been tangled. I know it's not, but it feels like it's beyond rectification. So, for a change, I am going to write in a style I am much more at home with. If you know me, you know I have been doing this for years. If you don't, well, I hope it touches some part of you.
Blackness, thick as oil,
Sinking into my soul.
Life without purpose,
No ending, no goal.
World without wonder,
Robbed of the light,
Scared little girl,
Hidden in plain sight.
Never ending fear,
Coursing through the veins.
All blank faces,
Bodies without names.
Scattered pictures,
Trying to make sense.
Choices and regrets,
Future and past tense.
Noble intentions,
Life seeming brittle.
Showing strength,
Feeling so little.
Must find the path.
Need to find the way.
Blunder through the dark,
We all will pay.
One day life will collect,
The debts we owe.
The bargains we made,
Nothing to show.
Sunlight on my face,
Sea foam at my feet.
I will get through this darkness,
I will not retreat.
I don't know if that will make sense to anyone, but it is a clear reflection of my mind right now. There is chaos and darkness. There is love and hope. There is fear and justice. My world is full of all these things right now. I know the needed outcome, but I have no path. Maybe saying I am truly lost is not entirely true. I know the goals, but not the way. So, once again, I start down a dark path full of battles and fear. I do this for many reasons, but mostly, I do this for myself. I am tired of being brave because I am so scared. I need to heal.
Facing sickness, death, and fear is never fun, but I am feeling so lost. I have all goals in mind. I know the outcomes that I need and want, but not how to get there. I feel like I am wandering around aimlessly again. My kids, my wife, my father, my life... All are so prominent in my mind right now that I cannot separate one from another. It's like a ball of yarn that has been tangled. I know it's not, but it feels like it's beyond rectification. So, for a change, I am going to write in a style I am much more at home with. If you know me, you know I have been doing this for years. If you don't, well, I hope it touches some part of you.
Blackness, thick as oil,
Sinking into my soul.
Life without purpose,
No ending, no goal.
World without wonder,
Robbed of the light,
Scared little girl,
Hidden in plain sight.
Never ending fear,
Coursing through the veins.
All blank faces,
Bodies without names.
Scattered pictures,
Trying to make sense.
Choices and regrets,
Future and past tense.
Noble intentions,
Life seeming brittle.
Showing strength,
Feeling so little.
Must find the path.
Need to find the way.
Blunder through the dark,
We all will pay.
One day life will collect,
The debts we owe.
The bargains we made,
Nothing to show.
Sunlight on my face,
Sea foam at my feet.
I will get through this darkness,
I will not retreat.
I don't know if that will make sense to anyone, but it is a clear reflection of my mind right now. There is chaos and darkness. There is love and hope. There is fear and justice. My world is full of all these things right now. I know the needed outcome, but I have no path. Maybe saying I am truly lost is not entirely true. I know the goals, but not the way. So, once again, I start down a dark path full of battles and fear. I do this for many reasons, but mostly, I do this for myself. I am tired of being brave because I am so scared. I need to heal.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
It's not fair....
Recently, I wrote a post for a friend about someone who impacted my life. I don't think that I realized how much he did, until I wrote that, but it was very good for me. I need to do that again, for someone who means the world to me. Today, I am faced with an awful reality. I have been avoiding writing about this subject because this one will bring me to tears. I have ever tried to be the strong one and keep it together for everyone around me, but that means cutting off my emotions sometimes. I have been holding this one in for weeks now. I think the best way to pay tribute and let myself feel, would be to start at the beginning.
My mother raised me alone. My father was never around. I grew up fatherless. My mother raised me on her own, never knowing her worth. She never felt worthy of love. We were the dynamic duo. We learned life together. We suffered together. We created this bond, that most see as unnatural, that is unbreakable. I know when she is in pain, even miles away. I just know. We have a theme song.
I grew up and moved away. I started my own life. I went through hell and back to find happiness. Through it all, my mother was my rock. She was my voice of reason. When my eyes and ears failed me, she would whisper what I did not see. I relied on her and she relied on me.
As I was forging myself into who I am today, my mother was doing the same. She was breaking out of the cocoon that had become raising me as a teen mom. She was going to parties and making friends. She even signed up for a dating site. That was so big. This woman that I idolized was finally seeing some of her worth. She was putting herself out there and taking risks.
About seven years ago, I called her house to see what she was up to. (I knew it was something.) My grandmother told me she was out on a date. As a matter of fact, she told me that my mother had been dating the same man for months. I was so thrilled. She was having the life that I felt I had stolen from her.
When she came to visit me after my divorce, she spoke about him. They were buying a house. They were making life plans. Her eyes lit up like diamonds and her voice softened to satin. She spoke of him with reverence and love I had only seen her speak about me. She would giggle on the phone with him. It was so amazing to see. I admit, a little jealousy crept in, but the look on my mother's face overrode everything.
She announced six months later they were getting married. I know what my mother thought of this man, but I had yet to meet him and I had my reservations. We packed up the family and headed out west. I was to give my mother away. I had some very mixed feelings about that. Not only was I giving her away to a man I had never met, but I was gaining a brother in the deal. My whole world was changing.
When we arrived at my mother's new home, I cautiously approached the door. I was so nervous. Then, that blue door opened up, a man with blonde receding hair and dork glasses came out, and wrapped me in the biggest hug. I looked him in the face, smiled sweetly, and told him, "If you hurt my mother, I will hunt you down and kill you." And so began a new chapter for us all.
I never imagined that giving my mother away, that I would be giving a piece of my heart away to this man. That was 5 years ago. I love this man. Since the wedding, he has taken my family into his home to help us get on our feet. He has been a rock for all of us. He has been the grandfather my children needed. He has been so much, but most important, he is the father I never had.
Three weeks ago, my mother texted me. She asked me to get in touch with her because it was important. I called. She was in tears. My father was being tested for cancer. He was just being tested. I asked the questions that needed to be asked and waited for the results. The first results, two weeks ago said lymphoma. The survival rate for that is high and I was awash with relief. He still had a few more tests to go, but this we could do. Then, it all changed.
This last Wednesday, while on my way home, I got devastating news. This man that I have come to love as my father has stage four lung cancer. It has spread to his bones. This is incurable. I have spent days looking for loopholes or alternate remedies to extend life, but prognosis is about 6 months. I cannot even begin to express how unfair this is.
I don't want him to die. I want to be hopeful, and part of me is, but the part of me that has to know all the statistics knows that he has a one percent chance of survival through the year. Those are horrible odds. I know that when I saw him two weeks ago, it was a far cry from what I saw two days ago. He is showing signs of pain and exhaustion. It hurts to see. It hurts to feel.
I don't think I am ready for another death so close to my heart. It's been ten years, but that isn't long enough. This is so incredibly unfair for everyone; me, my mother, my children, his son, his one year old grandson. I don't want this. I wanted him to see my son graduate high school and go to an amazing college. I wanted him to be here when my daughter starts dating to scare off the boys. I wanted him to be there when my children find the kind of love he provides. I want them to be old enough to remember all that this man is. I want them to remember the light he brings to the world. I want them to remember that he didn't have to love us, he CHOSE to love us. He chose to take us into his heart.
He chose to call my children his family. He takes them fishing and hiking. He picks flowers for my daughter and rescues the worms that might fall so she doesn't cry. He encourages my son to be a better man as he grows older. HE is the role model I would have chosen for them. He has given my mother unconditional love. He has shown her that she has worth. He has shown her that she can be loved and should be. He accepted my wife without even blinking. He took us all in. He made room for us all in his heart.
Now, we are faced with goodbye. I don't want this. I want to wave a magic wand and keep this man from leaving this world. I never knew what I was missing until I had it. I didn't take it for granted. I bathed in it. Now, it is being ripped away from me. Who is going to be the comedy relief at dinner? Who is going to understand my children and love them for who they are? Who is going to wrap my daughter in their favorite blanket and watch stupid Barbie movies with her? Who? Sure, these things could be done by anyone, but it really isn't the same.
I don't know what the world is going to look like when he is gone, but I know that it will not be as beautiful. The universe is not just robbing our family of someone we love, it is robbing the world of an amazing man. A man that can restore faith in daughters who had none for fathers. A man that has strong principles. A man that cares deeply, speaks little, and brightens the world. It's not fair.
My mother raised me alone. My father was never around. I grew up fatherless. My mother raised me on her own, never knowing her worth. She never felt worthy of love. We were the dynamic duo. We learned life together. We suffered together. We created this bond, that most see as unnatural, that is unbreakable. I know when she is in pain, even miles away. I just know. We have a theme song.
I grew up and moved away. I started my own life. I went through hell and back to find happiness. Through it all, my mother was my rock. She was my voice of reason. When my eyes and ears failed me, she would whisper what I did not see. I relied on her and she relied on me.
As I was forging myself into who I am today, my mother was doing the same. She was breaking out of the cocoon that had become raising me as a teen mom. She was going to parties and making friends. She even signed up for a dating site. That was so big. This woman that I idolized was finally seeing some of her worth. She was putting herself out there and taking risks.
About seven years ago, I called her house to see what she was up to. (I knew it was something.) My grandmother told me she was out on a date. As a matter of fact, she told me that my mother had been dating the same man for months. I was so thrilled. She was having the life that I felt I had stolen from her.
When she came to visit me after my divorce, she spoke about him. They were buying a house. They were making life plans. Her eyes lit up like diamonds and her voice softened to satin. She spoke of him with reverence and love I had only seen her speak about me. She would giggle on the phone with him. It was so amazing to see. I admit, a little jealousy crept in, but the look on my mother's face overrode everything.
She announced six months later they were getting married. I know what my mother thought of this man, but I had yet to meet him and I had my reservations. We packed up the family and headed out west. I was to give my mother away. I had some very mixed feelings about that. Not only was I giving her away to a man I had never met, but I was gaining a brother in the deal. My whole world was changing.
When we arrived at my mother's new home, I cautiously approached the door. I was so nervous. Then, that blue door opened up, a man with blonde receding hair and dork glasses came out, and wrapped me in the biggest hug. I looked him in the face, smiled sweetly, and told him, "If you hurt my mother, I will hunt you down and kill you." And so began a new chapter for us all.
I never imagined that giving my mother away, that I would be giving a piece of my heart away to this man. That was 5 years ago. I love this man. Since the wedding, he has taken my family into his home to help us get on our feet. He has been a rock for all of us. He has been the grandfather my children needed. He has been so much, but most important, he is the father I never had.
Three weeks ago, my mother texted me. She asked me to get in touch with her because it was important. I called. She was in tears. My father was being tested for cancer. He was just being tested. I asked the questions that needed to be asked and waited for the results. The first results, two weeks ago said lymphoma. The survival rate for that is high and I was awash with relief. He still had a few more tests to go, but this we could do. Then, it all changed.
This last Wednesday, while on my way home, I got devastating news. This man that I have come to love as my father has stage four lung cancer. It has spread to his bones. This is incurable. I have spent days looking for loopholes or alternate remedies to extend life, but prognosis is about 6 months. I cannot even begin to express how unfair this is.
I don't want him to die. I want to be hopeful, and part of me is, but the part of me that has to know all the statistics knows that he has a one percent chance of survival through the year. Those are horrible odds. I know that when I saw him two weeks ago, it was a far cry from what I saw two days ago. He is showing signs of pain and exhaustion. It hurts to see. It hurts to feel.
I don't think I am ready for another death so close to my heart. It's been ten years, but that isn't long enough. This is so incredibly unfair for everyone; me, my mother, my children, his son, his one year old grandson. I don't want this. I wanted him to see my son graduate high school and go to an amazing college. I wanted him to be here when my daughter starts dating to scare off the boys. I wanted him to be there when my children find the kind of love he provides. I want them to be old enough to remember all that this man is. I want them to remember the light he brings to the world. I want them to remember that he didn't have to love us, he CHOSE to love us. He chose to take us into his heart.
He chose to call my children his family. He takes them fishing and hiking. He picks flowers for my daughter and rescues the worms that might fall so she doesn't cry. He encourages my son to be a better man as he grows older. HE is the role model I would have chosen for them. He has given my mother unconditional love. He has shown her that she has worth. He has shown her that she can be loved and should be. He accepted my wife without even blinking. He took us all in. He made room for us all in his heart.
Now, we are faced with goodbye. I don't want this. I want to wave a magic wand and keep this man from leaving this world. I never knew what I was missing until I had it. I didn't take it for granted. I bathed in it. Now, it is being ripped away from me. Who is going to be the comedy relief at dinner? Who is going to understand my children and love them for who they are? Who is going to wrap my daughter in their favorite blanket and watch stupid Barbie movies with her? Who? Sure, these things could be done by anyone, but it really isn't the same.
I don't know what the world is going to look like when he is gone, but I know that it will not be as beautiful. The universe is not just robbing our family of someone we love, it is robbing the world of an amazing man. A man that can restore faith in daughters who had none for fathers. A man that has strong principles. A man that cares deeply, speaks little, and brightens the world. It's not fair.
It's too soon....
I have been brewing this one for a good two weeks. I don't even know where to start. There is so much turmoil and stress going on in my life right now, that sometimes, it is wicked hard to breathe. We went on a vacation for spring break. As is usual when you gather several ASD kids for a vacation, I returned needing a vacation from my vacation. The vacation I took from reality was just stressful in a different way. I did remember how to smile and I did have an amazing time, but it was so exhausting.
I returned home to two separate personal issues. The first is in regards to the fact that bio is in town. It's been a good long while since he graced my kids with his presence. It freaks me out more than a little bit. I cannot name a time that we really every agreed on anything regarding the children. The idea that he has them and I am not there to help them, is very disconcerting. What if they meltdown? What if my son has a panic attack? I am not there to talk them through it and he hasn't been around enough to know. He hasn't walked this path with us. He has fervently ignored it for a very long time. I don't know that he can ignore it anymore, but it still raises all my defenses that I am not there to help them with the things I do everyday, like button my daughter's pants or make sure my son wears underwear. It really is the little things.
I did get to talk to them tonight. It was through Facebook on his account, but that doesn't really matter to me. I don't really have anything to hide. If he wanted a bigger part in his children's lives, he would make a better effort. As it is, he makes, what feels like, a minimal effort. There are extenuating circumstances, but not enough to keep him away for as long as he was. I think a lot of my panic has nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. Well, that isn't entirely true, but I think the majority is. I need to get over that. They return after the weekend and we shall see.
The other issue I returned to face was the diagnosis of my step father with stage four lung cancer. There is no cure. It can be managed. He does have a small chance of survival and everyone is clinging to that right now. I am researching all over because, despite my hopes he will come out the other side, I am a realist. One percent is not a large percentage at all. Honestly, it really freaks me out. I have not processed it all yet, but I am sure it will hit me.
I have not told my daughter. I don't know how. I told my son because I know better than to try and hide things from him. I feel cheated. My own father is most frequently a non existent entity. This man came into our lives over 5 years ago. For the first time, I had a real dad. My mother had someone to love her like she deserved. We waited so long for that. Both of us waited. Miraculously, we were granted the chance at that. Now, the universe wants to take it away.
I don't want to lose the man I consider father. I don't want my kids to lose their grandpa. I don't want to face reality on this one. However, since nobody else will, I sort of have to. I have to prepare myself to be the rock. I have so many people to hold together. I am not responsible for the world, but I am responsible for my own little one. I don't like Death. I have been bedfellows with him before and it sucked royally.
I am starting to accept the hard reality that my life will never be easy. The days of smooth sailing are going to be few and far between for awhile. I don't know how to feel about that. Everyone keeps telling me to deal with one thing at a time, but that isn't particularly possible. They are both happening at the same time. I am running from one fear to the next and back. I am micromanaging myself to death. I would love to say that I will stop it, but I won't. I will continue to be the go to. I will be the get it done girl. I will be the rock, the shoulder, and the reasonable one. In between, I will be the girl who isn't sleeping, forgets to eat, and cries at midnight when nobody is around.
That is something I have been doing for a long time. I have been falling apart on my own time. It means no real down time, but everyone needs something all the time. I am strong enough to do it. I don't have to like it. My soul feels broken over my dad. Nobody will talk about it, so I had to look it all up and from what I can gather, median prognosis is just shy of six months. I am not ready to face that. I am about to lose the only father I have ever really known. Maybe one day, I will take the time to tell you about this man that changed my and my mother's world so profoundly. It's a beautiful tale. He is a beautiful person. The impacts he has made on me are profound.
I am on the hope bandwagon. I am hoping with everything in me. I am not ready for this. I am not ready to lose another person so close to my heart. It's been almost 11 years, but it's too soon.
I returned home to two separate personal issues. The first is in regards to the fact that bio is in town. It's been a good long while since he graced my kids with his presence. It freaks me out more than a little bit. I cannot name a time that we really every agreed on anything regarding the children. The idea that he has them and I am not there to help them, is very disconcerting. What if they meltdown? What if my son has a panic attack? I am not there to talk them through it and he hasn't been around enough to know. He hasn't walked this path with us. He has fervently ignored it for a very long time. I don't know that he can ignore it anymore, but it still raises all my defenses that I am not there to help them with the things I do everyday, like button my daughter's pants or make sure my son wears underwear. It really is the little things.
I did get to talk to them tonight. It was through Facebook on his account, but that doesn't really matter to me. I don't really have anything to hide. If he wanted a bigger part in his children's lives, he would make a better effort. As it is, he makes, what feels like, a minimal effort. There are extenuating circumstances, but not enough to keep him away for as long as he was. I think a lot of my panic has nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. Well, that isn't entirely true, but I think the majority is. I need to get over that. They return after the weekend and we shall see.
The other issue I returned to face was the diagnosis of my step father with stage four lung cancer. There is no cure. It can be managed. He does have a small chance of survival and everyone is clinging to that right now. I am researching all over because, despite my hopes he will come out the other side, I am a realist. One percent is not a large percentage at all. Honestly, it really freaks me out. I have not processed it all yet, but I am sure it will hit me.
I have not told my daughter. I don't know how. I told my son because I know better than to try and hide things from him. I feel cheated. My own father is most frequently a non existent entity. This man came into our lives over 5 years ago. For the first time, I had a real dad. My mother had someone to love her like she deserved. We waited so long for that. Both of us waited. Miraculously, we were granted the chance at that. Now, the universe wants to take it away.
I don't want to lose the man I consider father. I don't want my kids to lose their grandpa. I don't want to face reality on this one. However, since nobody else will, I sort of have to. I have to prepare myself to be the rock. I have so many people to hold together. I am not responsible for the world, but I am responsible for my own little one. I don't like Death. I have been bedfellows with him before and it sucked royally.
I am starting to accept the hard reality that my life will never be easy. The days of smooth sailing are going to be few and far between for awhile. I don't know how to feel about that. Everyone keeps telling me to deal with one thing at a time, but that isn't particularly possible. They are both happening at the same time. I am running from one fear to the next and back. I am micromanaging myself to death. I would love to say that I will stop it, but I won't. I will continue to be the go to. I will be the get it done girl. I will be the rock, the shoulder, and the reasonable one. In between, I will be the girl who isn't sleeping, forgets to eat, and cries at midnight when nobody is around.
That is something I have been doing for a long time. I have been falling apart on my own time. It means no real down time, but everyone needs something all the time. I am strong enough to do it. I don't have to like it. My soul feels broken over my dad. Nobody will talk about it, so I had to look it all up and from what I can gather, median prognosis is just shy of six months. I am not ready to face that. I am about to lose the only father I have ever really known. Maybe one day, I will take the time to tell you about this man that changed my and my mother's world so profoundly. It's a beautiful tale. He is a beautiful person. The impacts he has made on me are profound.
I am on the hope bandwagon. I am hoping with everything in me. I am not ready for this. I am not ready to lose another person so close to my heart. It's been almost 11 years, but it's too soon.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
How far....
So, life sped up, as life is prone to do. Things are good here, but busy as hell. We have IEP's and vacation. We have surprise visitors sprung on us. You know the kind. The ones where they aren't good surprises. They have the potential to stress you out. Then, they have the audacity to be right on top of the vacation you have been planning and looking forward to, giving them more chance to just ruin everything right out from under you. However, I am not going to let that happen.
It has been awhile since I got on here and let it all out. I know that. I don't know if you all noticed, but I did. I am getting tense again. I need to write, even if I don't know what to say, or how to get it out. I think I told you about the crap holidays we had, but if I didn't, they were crap. My mother had surgery. Everyone seems to need something from us and all we can do is count down the days until we are out of here for a week. Twelve...eleven...ten...
Then comes "The Email." Yup, here comes an unwanted guest. No, they are not staying here. I would end up in jail, if that were the case. They are coming however, with three weeks notice, I might add. My kids are flipping out at the news. There is a mix of happiness, fear, and trepidation in both. I am a ball of stress. I am running around trying to prepare for everything at once, despite that I have a week left before the train hits full speed.
The week we leave, we have back to back IEP meetings. Neither of which are going to be easily won, even with an advocate. We are meeting with good friends for vacation. Nothing will ruin that week. We are going and you can't stop us. If you know me, don't try to call. I am not answering the phone. The day we get back is when "they" arrive. I have twelve hours between when we get back until "they" intrude in our lives.
I want you all to take note of something here. My writing is not hurried or full of angst. It is just matter of fact. I don't know how many of you really understand what that means. Three years ago, under almost the same circumstances, I was in the corner of my living room, bawling my eyes out in terror. I was afraid of how things would go down. What were these people going to do to me this time? You know what? I am not like that anymore.
I am owning my shit. Yes, I will have fear and probably a few moments of weakness, but I have come so damn far. I was given a demand this time. I didn't cave. I responded with a respectful, "No." I will not be ruled by fear and intimidation anymore. I realize, that despite the fear and loathing I hold inside of me, it does not control me anymore. For that, I have a team of friends and an awesome DV therapist to thank. This journey is far from over for me, but the strides I have made are incredible.
I control the situation. I control me. As long as I feel together, the rest will fall into place. For me, I see this as having broken the bonds that kept me in fear. There will always BE fear, but I don't have to be a slave to it. So, the timing sucks. So, it means I have to do more in a shorter period of time, to cover all eventual outcomes, but so what!?! I will do them. However, I will not fear this. I will always fear how things affect my kids, but for me, I am so done being scared. I am facing those demons and kicking their asses. As far as my kids go, yeah, I will worry. That doesn't mean that I am still trapped by fear. It means that I have overcome it. I'm not afraid for me anymore. That feels so good.
It has been awhile since I got on here and let it all out. I know that. I don't know if you all noticed, but I did. I am getting tense again. I need to write, even if I don't know what to say, or how to get it out. I think I told you about the crap holidays we had, but if I didn't, they were crap. My mother had surgery. Everyone seems to need something from us and all we can do is count down the days until we are out of here for a week. Twelve...eleven...ten...
Then comes "The Email." Yup, here comes an unwanted guest. No, they are not staying here. I would end up in jail, if that were the case. They are coming however, with three weeks notice, I might add. My kids are flipping out at the news. There is a mix of happiness, fear, and trepidation in both. I am a ball of stress. I am running around trying to prepare for everything at once, despite that I have a week left before the train hits full speed.
The week we leave, we have back to back IEP meetings. Neither of which are going to be easily won, even with an advocate. We are meeting with good friends for vacation. Nothing will ruin that week. We are going and you can't stop us. If you know me, don't try to call. I am not answering the phone. The day we get back is when "they" arrive. I have twelve hours between when we get back until "they" intrude in our lives.
I want you all to take note of something here. My writing is not hurried or full of angst. It is just matter of fact. I don't know how many of you really understand what that means. Three years ago, under almost the same circumstances, I was in the corner of my living room, bawling my eyes out in terror. I was afraid of how things would go down. What were these people going to do to me this time? You know what? I am not like that anymore.
I am owning my shit. Yes, I will have fear and probably a few moments of weakness, but I have come so damn far. I was given a demand this time. I didn't cave. I responded with a respectful, "No." I will not be ruled by fear and intimidation anymore. I realize, that despite the fear and loathing I hold inside of me, it does not control me anymore. For that, I have a team of friends and an awesome DV therapist to thank. This journey is far from over for me, but the strides I have made are incredible.
I control the situation. I control me. As long as I feel together, the rest will fall into place. For me, I see this as having broken the bonds that kept me in fear. There will always BE fear, but I don't have to be a slave to it. So, the timing sucks. So, it means I have to do more in a shorter period of time, to cover all eventual outcomes, but so what!?! I will do them. However, I will not fear this. I will always fear how things affect my kids, but for me, I am so done being scared. I am facing those demons and kicking their asses. As far as my kids go, yeah, I will worry. That doesn't mean that I am still trapped by fear. It means that I have overcome it. I'm not afraid for me anymore. That feels so good.
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