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.
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