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.

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.