So it's a quiet Sunday night here. The weather's craptacular outside but it's nice and toasty in here and I've got a nice glass of wine to keep the mood mellow. Football's on the TV and I'm wrapping Christmas presents for this coming weekend's trip back home to Massachusetts. After I get in Dad and I'll test out this new bourbon I found and decorate the tree. It'll be good to be back home sleeping in my old room, padding downstairs to bogart food from the fridge and just shoot the breeze with my dad. I could use a little comfort time right about now.
I was more or less doing all right but now I'm not and it'll take a while for my emotions to settle again. Mom got diagnosed with endometrial cancer and we just found out Friday. I'm not the only one who's upset. Her husband's understandably shaken by this, as are my aunt and cousin in Texas. My cousin is particularly not happy about it, I hear. Mom's his only aunt but also his favorite one. Lee and I must be reacting about the same way, then, because I am having a really hard time with this too. The diagnosis is about the best possible one you could hope for and still have it be cancer. They caught it in the very first stage, it's a very common type of cancer, and with a hysterectomy we're virtually assured that'll put an end to it. So okay, my logical mind understands and appreciates this for what it is. It's not an all hands on deck kind of situation.
Then why do I feel so blindsided? I don't know. This just scares me. The thought of my mom not being in this world is not all right. Even if that threat is very minimal it's still much more present in my thoughts than it usually is and maybe that's what's throwing me for a loop. I've been feeling like the rug's been pulled from under me and that maybe the ground beneath my feet isn't so stable after all. It's a lot like how I felt when my grandmother died a year and a half ago. I'd feel fine and be going about my day when all of a sudden it would hit and I'd be dazed, wondering exactly what on earth I was supposed to do and why I should even bother doing anything at all because nothing made sense anymore.
That's how it was when a friend called to check on me last night. I was looking over a packet of French roast at the grocery store when the phone rang and we chatted about what was going on for a while. His father had recently been diagnosed with cancer and so he understood well what I was experiencing. I explained that I didn't need to talk so much right then but that I would like to talk sometime. So he sent me lots of love and support and I hung up the phone, planning to speak with him the next day. That's when it hit. It was his kindness that got me. I found myself staring at this packet of French roast wondering what the hell I was doing there, what on earth I was supposed to do, and I felt so idiotic. All of a sudden everything was just wrong and I just sat there, dazed.
I'm going to give myself a wide berth. Plenty of time and latitude. Whatever I need to cycle through and feel, all the ups and downs, I'm gonna go ahead and feel. It's gonna suck for a while and I'm pretty much accepting of that. So I'm not okay and for the time being, it's just not going to be okay. It's amazing how rarely we let ourselves be in that state -- and how rarely other people let us be in that state. I am feeling better than I did Friday but I'm still going to need plenty of time to get accustomed to this new reality.
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