ick
I went to Raleigh this weekend. It was nice to visit with my family, properly, not like last time when I was in a serious funk over quitting smoking. Ole Blue Eyes came to town on Saturday night, and hung out with me and The Fam. It was pretty great. It’s fair to say they adore her. It’s fair to say I do, too. I couldn’t find the words to properly express my appreciation at the fact that she was willing to go into a home that’s being changed and stressed by a cancer that is getting worse. Dad is getting sick. Sicker, I guess I should say. He wasn’t out of bed for more than two hours the whole weekend. It’s hard. It was better having her there with me. She laid in my brother’s bed with me, in the dark, after they’d all gone to sleep, and wrapped her arms and legs around me, and I could breathe again. She doesn’t know what that meant to me. I tried to tell her and the words wouldn’t come out right. I asked Eli if he was scared that Dad was so sick, and he laughed, that nervous laugh an eight year old laughs when they don’t want to tell the truth, and he said No. After a pause, he asked me if I was, and I said Sometimes. I couldn’t explain to him that it’s okay to be scared, this is a scary thing, because he doesn’t like to talk about emotions, but I hope my sharing might pave the way for a conversation sometime soon. I don’t think they want him to be scared. I dont’ want him to be clueless and naive. They win, for now. They won’t be able to pretend it’s not happening for much longer…Dad is starting to look sick, and his throat is turning a weird brown-red on the outside, from the radiation. I’m scared. I’m shaken up. I can’t sleep.
