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.

Unexpected Child Moment #564

Just remember I love you, and it will be all right,

Just remember I love you more than I can say.

--"Just Remember I Love You," Firefall

It was bedtime, on a night like any other night. Which means that, as usual, there was major stalling going on.  This evening's particular stalling involved Anna taking numerous pictures of me with my cell phone.  Then we took funny pictures together.  And then it was really bedtime.

As we lay snuggling, she turns to me and says, "Do you know why I took all those pictures of you?"

"No, why?" I say, waiting for something hilarious.

"Because I want lots of pictures of you for when you're gone."

What?

I thought we were just having fun....

Friday Fun: Kids and the Pets Who Tolerate Them

Happy Friday!

This week, I'd like readers who feel so inclined to share their comical photos of their kids and their pets.  I think it's really important for kids to have pets because they learn responsibility and how to take care of living things.  They also get the unconditional love and snuggles family pets so willingly provide.

Best buds!

But, sometimes those poor pets don't quite know what to make of the exuberance of the little people in their households.  At times it can surely be frightening, and at times just plain weird. Still, most pets (thankfully, like ours) are incredibly loving and understanding toward these overly active, loud, enthusiastic beings.

Anna with Kelsey's cat, Artemis

As It Is Meant to Be

I was scanning the headlines on msn.com one day when I came across this article.  I hope you will read it too. It resonated with me for many reasons, particularly that we, like Dr. Snyderman, never envisioned raising a child together and when that opportunity came along, with little or no time to prepare, we plunged in and said yes.

And it was meant to be, and it has worked out more than beautifully.