I never know how to feel on days like today.
It’s almost too many emotions to pick apart and quantify. I’ve always been good at quantitative analysis, so the fact that I don’t know how to explain my emotions on these days makes me almost as upset as the day itself.
- I’m sad……but I’m not sure how sad I am, or how sad I’m supposed to be.
- I’m nervous…….because I sometimes don’t want to talk about it when people ask, but how much of my feeling is nerves?
- I’m jealous……of people who have their parents around, but don’t appreciate them. Am I even supposed to be feeling that way?
- I’m empathetic……..to the kids, many much younger than me, who’ve lost their parents. This, more than the other emotions, has I think slowly taken up the bulk of my feelings on this day as time as passed.
- I’m anxious……..about things in the future that I will need my Dad for, and he won’t be here when I need him.
This this what being an adult has come to? If you open the door to death does it suddenly just swoop into your life and consume it? I hope not, and most of the time I don’t think that at all! However, in the past few weeks, it feels like death has circled around several of the people who’ve I’ve held very close during various phases of my life. Two of my blood bank sisters now have to raise their children without loving fathers…..both taken far too young. A high school acquaintance is left to raise a large family after her husband was taken. A sudden death rocked not only Cornhusker nation, but the Main Squeeze’s family last week. Sometimes, it just all feels like I don’t know what the world is coming to.
I live my life the way Dad wanted us to live in the “pre-death/post-cancer” life we as a family were handed, WE MOVE FORWARD! We do everything we are supposed to do, and life as we had known it remained remarkably the same until it suddenly was not.
I guess in that way I watched my Dad fight cancer in much the same way he always wanted me to swim my competitive races.
Leave it all in the water, and if you can’t get out of the pool at the end, I’ll pull you out.”
I guess Dad just needed someone much bigger to pull him out when he was done with the race.
So, I suppose I shall celebrate the day by working on some woodwork for my bedroom. I might also get around to putting my “Fuck Cancer” sticker on the car. I was once told I had earned the right to the sticker. I’m not sure it’s a right I wanted to have earned, but I suppose there’s nothing to do now but embrace it. Plus, “Fuck Cancer” is a true life statement!