Even though, maybe it's not. Maybe he's not feeling that well, even though he tells people different. Maybe I'm tired of picking up the slack, even though I say it's okay. And I feel bad for the resentment and frustration that sometimes builds. And I wonder how many moments are left for us. And I resolve to be more aware, more mindful. And then I think maybe it isn't a big deal. And everything really is fine. And I'm making more of it than I should. Maybe I should believe him when he says he is okay. It would be easy. He says he's fine, so he is. But then I think of his silence. The times when I'll look over and find him asleep in the middle of the day, bundled in a comforter on his chair. The way he sometimes makes small noises in his sleep. And I'll look at my girls, and I can feel their worry. And I try to make things more normal. More like they were. But it's not.We are good. He feels fine. Everything is fine.
Wednesday, April 8
maybe it's not
One of the bad things about living with someone who's living with cancer (aside from the obvious difficulty that he has fucking cancer) is that it constantly hovers between you, unspoken but lurking. It's something you whisper about when people ask, hoping he won't hear.
It would be so easy to crawl into some secret hole and pretend, but we don't. We push away those thoughts that come to us in the dark moments. We get up and we do what needs doing.
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2 comments:
Brandie: It is possibly the hardest thing for the person with the FUCKING CANCER, to understand the pain and suffering for those living with them. Even thought discussing Mitchell's medical problems with the girls would be difficult, it would counter that feeling they have inside them, that tells them something is wrong. Without knowledge, they more than likely blame themselves. As your Dad and the girls' Poppie, if not with Mitchell as a part, they need a discussion from someone they trust. I love you, the girls and Mitchell and can only advise you to break the fear and barriers and face this thing as a family regardless of the outcome
Dad
Brandie,
I am so sorry all of this is happening. I wish I lived closer, so I could help you with meals, taking care of the girls, or just to listen in person. Please call me anytime - day or night. You can cry, scream, or just talk about dumb things like we have for years. If you ever need me to drive down, please just ask. I am here for you. John and I are praying for you, Mitchell and your beautiful girls.
Love you,
Stephanie
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