Ebb and flow. Decline and regrowth.
I read an article yesterday from a woman who lost her child to drowning. She didn’t even turn her back. She was just living her life and in the blink of an eye, her child slipped outside and was gone before she could find her. That’s how water is. Necessary for life but dark and deceitful. A hidden storm. Decline and regrowth.
This week Dad met with a new oncologist for a second opinion. Today we talked to hospice. The entire world feels prickly.
Dad can’t bear to die because he can’t envision any world that doesn’t have Mom in it. My faith tells me there is a paradise but Dad sees a desert. Tension is causing us both to lash out. Not one moment of this is easy.
I don’t know how to help anyone. I feel unprepared and helpless. Restless. I’m just over here swimming. Trying to break the surface.
In my home there has been a partial truce. Thank God. I don’t have the energy to be at war. I have learned something about being so open, though. You can share your story with the world but you must be prepared to have it used against you. For someone looking to hurt me, I’ve handed them the book. I’m not sure what I would change, though. Now is not the time to stop being me.
I wear my heart on my sleeve.