Archives for February 25, 2013

Holding On By a Thread

I seem fine. I act fine, most of the time. And really, I suppose I feel fine. But I’m just hanging on by a thread.

Not much self-reflection lately. I’d rather read or watch tv. Or stare into space. Or idly click links on the interwebs, following them to wherever they lead. Just so I don’t have to think about how I am.

When we lost my Dad last year we had no idea we would be in the same situation this year with Edmund’s Dad. It is simply too much. Good men, taken too young. The thing is, Henry is still here.

Henry is here, but he’s not here. He doesn’t remember if he ate two hours ago. He doesn’t get that he can’t walk on his own. It’s heartbreaking to see such a wonderful man just a shell of his former self, all due to cancer and its myriad of complications.

I haven’t been crying much lately, but I cried on my way home tonight. Back when Dad died, I cried once or twice a day, usually on my commute to work. I even wrote a post about how I was doing last June. There was a moment I felt I could never be happy again. How could I, without my Dad to joke around with?

When I think of what Edmund is going through and what he will go through when Henry passes, my heart just breaks. Sure, it gets better, and maybe it will be easier because we’ve known this might be on the horizon since the first time Henry had cancer in 2008, but I expect it will still suck a lot.

When you have a good parent, it is hard to let them go. And we both have been blessed with good parents.

It’s helpful to look at the blessings. It takes the sting out. Henry is where he wants to be; at home, in hospice care. We’ve been able to see him a few times since the cancer recurrence, and if we are lucky enough, we’ll be able to see him again. Our jobs have been flexible in giving us the time we need (and for me, allowing me to work remotely from PA) all so we can spend time with Ed’s family.

What’s next? That’s the hardest part. It is clear Henry is not going on anyone else’s schedule. He will go when he’s good and ready, it seems.

“I’m not dead yet”, Henry says.

Ahh, there’s another blessing.