While it is comforting to think of all the other people out there dealing with far worse, dealing with a parent being fatally ill is up there.
Everyone has their opinions on how to deal with it. Some say to take time to myself, relax, create. Some say get active, carry on, push forward. Some say it’s necessary to cry and carry-on, scream and rage; no one would judge… too hard.
Honestly, no one really knows what they’re capable of and even less about what another person is capable of.
So, it now makes sense to me that some people bury their heads in the sand and retreat. That some people become giant assholes. That some people don’t sleep or eat. Or that some people bury it down really deep and drink to forget.
I can’t say that the death of a parent is unfair. We all eventually experience this (if we’re lucky!). I always assumed that it would be far into the future, at some distant time, not in the near future.
I’m thankfully of an age that I am able to live on my own, guided to a stable life by the helping hands of my parents. My Mom can rest easy knowing I’ll never fall apart completely or permanently.
It just really sucks that she may not be there to let me prove it to her.
For these reasons I wish I believed in a God I could appeal to, barter with. “Dear God, I promise I’ll go to church and blah blah blah if only Mom can live to see my kids.” Unfortunately, all I hear is “there are more tumors, they’re in my brain now, don’t know how long…”
So heavy. Grief is like a blanket and it’s hard to kick off. I just imagine there are so many other people also struggling with their heavy blankets and I know I’m not alone. Comforting, I guess.
March 17, 2015 at 2:11 pm by Natalie Allen