The Black Hole

I am underwater.  Or maybe in a tunnel.  I know there is light above, somewhere, and I want to reach for it, to embrace it, but something holds me back.  I'm groggy.  I feel heavy.  Pulling myself up seems like a Herculean task.

I hear well-meaning voices at the surface.  They call to me with the pull of everyday life - there is grocery shopping to be done.  Laundry to be washed.  Motions to write.  Clients to call.  A child to bathe.  A family to spend time with.  And yet.....they are so far away.  I can't quite reach.

And yet, I cannot fail to do these things. Can I?

And yet.

Untethered

Ironically, my last post was about Anna’s taking many pictures of me due to her fear that I would die and that she wouldn’t be able to cope with it.  As I wrote that post, I could not have even imagined that, just over a month later, I would be the one losing a parent.

Two weeks after that post appeared, I got the terrible news that my father, seemingly out of the blue, had been diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer, Stage IV, which had metastasized to his liver and lungs.  I felt a palpable shift in my universe. I just couldn’t believe it.  He was only 65.  He was fit and healthy and wasn't a smoker and enjoyed exercising and had lots of energy. How could this be??

Things got worse over the next few days as we learned how extensive the illness was and as I researched the nightmare that is pancreatic cancer.  Of course, all cancer is terrible, but at least there are treatment options with many types of cancer.  Sometimes, treatment works and puts people into remission.  Sometimes it just buys time.  But either way, there is often something that people can hold onto that provides even just a little hope.

With pancreatic cancer…not so much.  It’s usually a silent killer – typically, by the time you know you have it, you’ve run out of time for any effective treatment. 

Sadly, that was the case with my dad.

Dad and me, June 8, 2014

He died on June 24, 2014.  Less than a month after his diagnosis.

My world came to a grinding halt.

Beyond the Rainbow

Once upon a time, once when you were mine,

I remember skies reflected in your eyes.

I wonder where you are, I wonder if you think about me

Once upon a time… in your wildest dreams.

“Your Wildest Dreams” – The Moody Blues

I heard the song the other day as I was driving on the highway. As I’ve mentioned, I spend a lot of time in my car these days going on what I have unfortunately dubbed the foreclosure tour of my state. I travel to do trials and I log a lot of time behind the wheel.

That means I listen to a lot of music.

Now, that's usually a good thing, because I love music and I often find it to be energizing and inspiring when I need it to be, but also relaxing and calming when I need it to be.

Yet still, there are those days were the specter of grief pops into my mind out of nowhere and I think about my best friend and how much I miss him. It's amazing how powerful those emotions are. He's been gone for almost three years now, which I can hardly believe, and still in a random moment when I least expect it, I feel his presence – or, rather, the lack of his presence – and it overwhelms me. 

And The Beat Goes On

Stress.  We all deal with it in one way, shape or form. Sometimes it's little annoyances, like slow drivers when we're already late for work, and sometimes it's big ones, like wondering how you'll pay a bill that month.

But if there's one thing being a parent teaches you, it's that no matter how much stress or sadness you're dealing with, life goes on. It must, no matter what.

And sometimes, that really sucks.