type a sentence.....delete.
type a sentence.....delete.
The thoughts, sentences and emotions of what these last few weeks have been like keep drumming (pounding) through my head, but I can't seem to figure out how to begin transferring any of them to the glaring white screen in front of me. It's been such a progression, this whole (my dad's) cancer thing through this last very long fifteen months - and having not shared much of it along the way, it's hard now to find that spot to jump in. Yet to blog anything else just seems frivolous and false when the whole of each and every one of my days revolves around my dad in either thought or action.
My dad with whom I used to sit around the table with just 18 months ago talking about how healthy he was compared to a lot of his peers. (that'll teach us)
It's a status that pops up on facebook frequently. It's to the point and accurate.
My dad will be calling for hospice on Monday. The nurses have suggested it for a couple weeks already, but with life comes hope and he kept holding out hope that he could make it to just one more appointment. As the days go by and he loses a little more each day - it becomes crystal clear that the last visit to the hospital/doctor has already been. His ability to live alone disappeared two weeks ago.
And it's exhausting.
As for me, these last few weeks have been a very controlled practice of putting one foot in front of the other and using every bit of inner strength I have to keep my emotions in check. The tears are never far from the surface and they escape without warning. They escape now as I type. I'll be driving (I used to look forward to that chance to think) and I'll find myself suddenly gasping with the overwhelmingness (should be a word) of it all. I cry for what was, what wasn't, what is and what is yet to come.
I find myself in places or aisles, not knowing how I got there. I've forgotten two appointments/dates in the last month (so not me). I wander aimlessly trying to find a place to land that will help keep my focus. I play the music incredibly loud hoping to drown out the thoughts, but while it doesn't really work - I still do it. I fall asleep hours earlier than I normally do over the sheer exhaustion of it all. And then I sit here awake at nearly 3am because of it.
And, of course, it's Christmas.
My kids have been troopers. They've taken on a lot this past year as I've been at my dad's more and more. Wendy and Allan have done an excellent job of holding down the fort when I've not been here after school and my husband has been steadfast in his ability to run this circus without me. Well, almost. Let's just say we're grateful for texting technology and the ability to type in - hey, don't forget to pick up that kid/prescription/milk or whatever it may be.
So I'm in day by day/minute by minute mode. My goal is to get things done while I can as none of us know what the next day will bring. I have finished the bulk of our Christmas shopping. 90% of it is wrapped. I have transferred the important dates onto the calendar and I hope that's enough to help me remember. My survival mode is to commit to nothing but if I'm able - I'll contribute or be there. To commit adds stress.
The housework has gone by the wayside, having chosen instead to use whatever spare minutes I have to bond/snuggle/play with my kids. I need that as much as they do. I'm adamant about not transferring any of my stress or worries to the children. It's mine to carry, not theirs. The spare minutes are too few right now, and they belong to them. It's with a mix of sorrow and relief that finds me thinking I can now safely plan for a long much needed vacation in the spring.
And that's where I'm at.
Today will find my mom, myself and four siblings along with our better halves gathering at my dad's for a ham dinner makeshift Christmas party. We won't stay long, but for a moment we'll all be together.
And that will be good.