So Dad is getting married... Again.
And I'm happy for him. I couldn't be anything other than happy for him. And we want him happy. Of course we want him happy. A miserable Dad is not a fun Dad to be around and Dad has had his share of misery for too long.
When he lost my stepmother two years ago he was devastated. He was lost. And we - his daughters - became his life raft to help him through what was the worst of times. And those times, I'm sure they were probably much harder for him than he ever let any of us know...
My father loved his wife. I have no doubt that had cancer not made the choice for him he would have been married to her forever. But life and the loss of it oftentimes doesn't give us a say in how our forevers play out.
My sisters too have had a tough time. Are still having a tough time. There is no getting over a loss of a Mother. You simply can't. I'm sure they wake up everyday and miss her more than the day before. Time doesn't heal as much as it reminds you of what you've lost and what you'll never have back again. And yet the world doesn't stop when you lose someone you love. It moves forward with you in it, and you learn how to deal with your sorrow, even if you never really learn how to stop wishing to somehow hear their voice again, or feel their arms encase you in a hug.
So Dad's news is difficult for them. Of course it is. But in their hearts I know that they want only what makes Dad happy. And so they'll step back and take a moment. They'll cry because it's what they'll need to do. But they'll be happy because they'll know Dad is too sweet a guy to not have someone to love.
Washed Ashore
Sick again. Sitting here trying to type while ignoring what seems to be a need to throw up. And I'm difficult. Refusing to schedule a visit to the doctor because I keep thinking it's going to go away. And yet, for the last two weeks it's been constant, leaving me fine for a few hours and then hitting me hard for all the rest. At first I thought that I had caught the stomach bug like everyone else in my office had but now I'm beginning to wonder if there isn't something more severe I should be worrying about.
Perhaps this is just a manifestation of my stress. And I am stressed. Clinically stressed. Stressed beyond any reasonable limit. Stressed beyond my abilities to handle it well. But I've handled stress before and I don't recall wanting to vomit every three seconds. And wanting to puke is stressing me out because there's nothing worse than feeling sick all of the time.
And I'm tired… Did I mention I'm tired? I'm so tired that I can't sleep and had it not been for Tylenol PM these past two nights, I doubt I would have slept a wink.
What to do… What to do?
Maybe I should stop stamping my feet like a child and call the doctor.
Then again it's hard for me to part with my cash… I have so little of it these days.
I need to make a decision.
But for now, I'll take to my bed, stare at my ceiling and think on it until I fall asleep.
