Thursday, January 24, 2013

Faced with mortality

I know it seems like I deal with death often on the mini-farm. And as sad as it is, the death of some animals is something I've gotten used to, even though it makes me sad. But when faced with the mortality of a parent, I'm struggling.

Last night as I sat on the couch snuggling with my son while reading one of the Narnia books out loud, I receive a call from my dad. Now something you need to understand about my relationship with my dad....it is basically a relationship via my mom. We talk when we see each other but not usually about anything very deep. The closest we got was when I lived with them for a month during my divorce and he made me feel safe. I call him on his birthday and Father's Day, but he NEVER calls me. I can only remember one other time he called me and that was once to discuss birthday or xmas presents for my mom. Oh wait, I think he was returning my call to him.

Anyhow, I tell G to hang on a second and answer with a feeling of dread, thinking "something happened to mom." The reason this was my first thought is that my siblings and I had a lot of discussion over xmas about mom's health because her back has been really hurting her and we are worried. Much to my shock, my dad was calling to give me news about himself. All I could hear at first was the dreaded word - CANCER. Breathe. Try not to start bawling. Listen to my dad calmly explaining the details: tonsil cancer, caught early, 85% success rate, surgery in 7-10 days to take out tonsil and affected lymph nodes, PET scan shows it has not spread, radiation for 6 weeks.

I manage to keep it together and ask him a few questions around the painful lump in my throat. I tell him I love him and we hang up. Then the tears burn their way down my face, releasing the pressure from that painful lump in my throat. G asks me from the couch what is wrong. He can't see me but he heard my half of the conversation. I didn't want to have to talk to an 8 year old about something like this, but I can't keep it from him. I did tell him that I needed a minute so I could tell him without crying. And amazingly, once I started telling him, the urge to sob began to pass, for the moment. The act of assuring him everything was going to be ok, helped me feel it was going to be ok, but I will admit to shedding more tears once he was in bed and I was alone. Tears not so much of fear that this cancer was going to kill my daddy, but tears for the fact that my parents are aging and our roles will soon be reversing. Mourning that brief time we had where we were all ok and I didn't need their emotional support (other than loving me for who I am) and they didn't need mine.

Today I am looking at my role as the eldest of 4 children. I feel I have the responsibility to keep all of us focused on the positive rather than what "could" happen. Many years of therapy taught me to focus on NOW and not live in the FUTURE. But I also have to learn how to deal with the hard emotional stuff without turning into a blubbering idiot. I cry when I am emotional - happy, sad, confused, frustrated, relieved - it all manifests as tears. I see someone else crying and it makes me cry. And unfortunately, I am not pretty when I cry. I get that horrible blotchy, swollen face. P can always tell when I've been crying even when I try to hide it.

I know billions of people have been in my shoes over the course of history, but this is my first time wearing these shoes.  I may not know the right way to walk in them, but walk in them I will, even if it makes me look ugly.

~T

No comments:

Post a Comment