have you ideas on how this life ends

lending you my heart until yours is better...

my own words circling back to me a year later. words of support offered to a friend in pain. those words unrecognized when sent back to me. funny how are friends can remind us of the friend we can be, not just to others, but to ourselves.

this year my dad is not doing well. because of this we have found ourselves spending much time with my family. moments needed, silent times with my dad mean more than any words. what we thought was after effects of the surgery of 8 months ago taking it's toll was actually something else, just masking what was really going on. a month ago i learned that my dad has 3rd stage lung cancer. words like malignant, inoperable, carcinoma have become part of our conversations.

there is nothing they can do. of course this was determined after weeks of tests. and again today more dr. visits. my dad looks hollow. so frail. i'm so sad and scared for him. today he undergoes more tests, more scans and will learn about possible treatment options, things that can ease his pain. i wonder what they will give us, for our pain.

my dad is quiet, stoic with all of this. the rest of us suck at it. there is so much madness. so much pain ripping through each person in my family. each one of us experiencing something different and deploying our own coping devices to help get by. anger and denial seem to be the most commonly used over the past few weeks.

i can barely sit still during a family meal at my parents. observing banter that feels so meaningless. i want to stand up and scream STOP. everyone stop. who cares about the neighbors dog or the bad drivers on the freeway. stop acting like this is any day, any meal because it isn't. everything had changed. suddenly i'm 12 again, not quite little, but not quite big. powerless without a squeaky voice. a petulant child who wants to be hugged hard and told it will all be okay. there are no hugs in my family. just one-armed half squeezes and maybe a periodic pat on the back.

i leave their house, no longer a strong woman, rather an upset, tantrum driven child. that child is running the show these days. especially when tired or overwhelmed or not getting exactly what i want in the exact moment. there is really no reasoning with this child in me either. it will only feel like a lecture. and i will reply in some surly, cool manner, deflecting any true feelings. i lack the ability to rise above. it's all i can do to be a mama. a barely decent one at that. i am a scared daughter, an invisible sister and an irratic partner.

drowning in the past, scared of the future and doing my best to remember to live in the present.