Priceless

I laid flat on my belly, gently tugging on my dog's leg.  "Please don't leave me," I said quietly.  "Please don't leave me alone."  My cry turned into sobbing.  It was the kind of sobbing you might mistake for soft laughter if not for the mucus steadily running down my face.  Zoe quickly appeared from under the couch, exited from the front and made a distinct & puposeful beeline for my face.  She licked my face as though she might lick away the sudden overwhelming feelings that stirred within me.

...

I have been alive for 32 years and in that 32 years I do not think I have spent as much time with my uncle as I have in the last few months.  After one surgery, his long hair had become matted and tangled after not having been brushed or washed in a week.  It took me the better part of an entire hour, or more possibly, to brush through the mass of tangles.  But I can also say I don't think either of us had laughed so hard in many weeks.

Darrell made it a comedy act and when he yelped, I laughed.  When I laughed, he carried on about how sadistic I was for laughing at his pain.  This is turn caused the two us as well as my mom to laugh even harder.  This is a very small explanation of Darrell's dark sense of humor.  I wonder if he's glad to know me and that I also have a similar sense of humor.

...

I laid on the rug sobbing, trying to regain control over myself.  I just want a simple life, I thought.  A simple life.  Shawn's suggestion to borrow more money to open the store is valid but it also means once again returning to heinous 18 hour days and well, borrowing more money.  That, paired with my weekly visit had me feeling a bit overwhelmed, to say the least.  Darrell wasn't doing so well today.  I go over there as much for him, as much as for my mom, and a little for myself.  His sense of humor had wained today for he was weak and in pain.  Mom showed me in private, the little booklet the hospice nurse had given her in secret as well. 

I quickly looked over it, speed reading as I have taught myself to do, and tried to commit to memory the items, the signs of impending doom before Darrell returned to the kitchen.  In a way, I have almost convinced myself that he will always live here under mom's care.  I'll remain 32 forever, he'll remain in his rocking chair, nearing 58 and smoking his Pall Mall cigarettes, laughing at my stupid jokes and I, at his.

That wouldn't be fair however.  It wouldn't be fair to have him pain forever and that is why we die.

I'm grateful for this newfound time together.  So much was stolen by harsh grudges, busyness, and life in general.  I've forgotten the past tears that seperated everyone for so long and figured out how to focus on the present without bothering to glimpse the future.  Mom, on the other hand, can seem to only focus in the coming future.  It is indeed a bleak future of quiet, no funeral, no ceremony, but finally a bit of rest for all.

Darrell looks forward to seeing his brothers & parents.  "But I'll be left all alone!" Mom once cried to me.  "You have us, Mom," I replied, with nothing else to possibly say.  What can you say to that?  Really, the only good thing regarding this bout with cancer (only about the upteenth time cancer has invaded our family) is that is brought a chance for brother & sister to reunite.  It forced a bitter man and a broken woman to finally reconnect and both are aware of how precious that is.

I suppose from an outside view, one could say perhaps it was worth it then. 

Anxiety

been thinking about getting some couseling at a church or soemthing, somewhere free.  I'm right there, right on the edge.  I've got many people crying on my shoulder.  I cannot comfort them, just listen and shoulder what burden I can.  I'm stressed from my job, I'm stressed from hatring my job.  I'm stressed over our small business.  I'm stressed because shawn comes home looking for things to be upset about if he already isn't and exhales air that makes me upset.

I'm stressed about money, weight gain, loan payments, lack of sleep, too much whiskey.  I'm stressed because the perswon who told me a deep dark secret months ago now wants it known to another certain person.  And this person has asked me to be there for moral support, to speak when this person is crying too much to speak.  We have to keep this tight, from leaking outward to other people.  There is so much shame.  Do I have the strength for this person?  I cry over what happened.  I cry because I can't fix it.  I cry because of things to come.

I've been crying for 20 minuets.  I cannot stop.

God, if you're out there, listening....
I just want my life to be simple.  Less complicated.  Simple.

The Day My Mom Asked, "Why Not Me Instead?"

My mom and her brother Darrell have watched everyone around them die.  And they are only in their mid-fifties.  For a couple or three years now, Darrell has been managing with skin cancer on his face that we suspect has moved into his brain.  And now Mom has to watch him die.

After the last MRI and Darrell's refusal to have another surgery, Mom called me everyday for two straight weeks, crying.  Everyone else has succumbed to heart attacks, illnesses, and cancer, cancer, cancer.  There is so much cancer.

"Just leave me one!" Mom cried.

Darrell and Mom cried together over the time they've lost.  He was sorry for his grudges, for having missed me & my sister grow up.  I was sorry too, however I never held it against him.  I brushed his hair after his last surgery and it must've took an hour but ended up being quite comical as I yanked on hair matted with dried blood and Darrell yelped so loudly the entire floor woke up.

I hadn't seen Darrell since.  Last Saturday we drove to my cousin's house where he is staying and I finally got to see Darrell again.  My cousin, Tammy, who I was meeting for the first time graciously opened her home to my uncle.  I told her how glad I was to finally meet her, I felt like I knew her.  She said Darrell brags on me all the time.  I joked that I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Darrell and I are a lot alike in some aspects.  We talk constantly and have little filter.  My mom cries that she can't imagine him not being here, that she's going to miss him so much.  I tell her not to get depressed over something that hasn't happened yet.  There's still time for a miracle.  But my faith has waned.

Are our prayers falling on deaf ears?  Surely, there must be more than 2 on this earth that would agree it would be good if Darrell were healed.  If any two on earth are in agreement....

Mom continues to pray without ceasing.  She is like a child.  She truly does have a childlike faith.  I admire her so much for it.  I also envy her.  If it were not for her faith, she may have been crushed by all the deaths and endless funerals already.  I know I certainly would have.

I've been listening to a song called "I Will Wait" by Mumford & Sons.  It encourages me to believe that those who have gone before us are kneeling down and waiting for the rest of us.  At least that's my take on the song.  Raise my hands, paint my spirit gold.

I so look forward to meeting my grandfather.  I can't wait to see my grandmother, pre-cancerous.  I hope my uncle will be healed.  But I know he will wait for us if he is not.