I've had a million things running through my head all day, and I've felt the need to write something....anything down. Yet again our life has shifted just a little. Todd out of nowhere Wednesday afternoon felt nauseated and really sick. I thought maybe it was something he ate although for the past few weeks he's had days sometimes in the mornings, sometimes in the evenings when he has had a little bit of nausea. Wednesday night the vomiting started, continuing into the next day...blood...lots of blood...not a good sign. We are controlling it all with medication, and it means he will probably stay on hospice for now.
This week (in 4 days) also happens to be the anniversary of the day my dad died. My emotions have been in overdrive. When I lost my dad I was 17. It was sudden. There were no last good-byes or last I love yous. It floored us all and it's a day that for me is still hard to think about. I remember little details.....My mom talking on the phone to my dad's secretary.....being asked to pick up my younger sister from basketball practice at the middle school, telling myself over and over "Do NOT cry, you can't tell her", and then hearing her break down as she walked in the front door.....My brother's best friend walking in the front door...crying....and then sitting with me for what seemed like hours, although I have no idea how much time it really was, it could have been minutes.....Trying...even then to be stronger than I was capable of being. Having to go back to school, after 2 weeks, and not wanting to talk to anyone. It was uncomfortable and awkward and I didn't know how to deal with it. I didn't know how to talk to anyone about it....and I didn't want to talk to anyone about it. So I kept everything to myself and I cried myself to sleep every night for months.
As parents we want to keep our kids safe from all the bad things in the world. We put our little naive parental force field around them and think we can keep them inside of it. That whatever bad happens we can protect them from it with our strength a lone, that we can absorb all the pain. Don't I wish. I don't know what's worse, experiencing the sudden death of someone you love or watching someone you love deteriorate over time, watching them suffer, knowing what's coming.
When Todd got sick, we didn't really say anything to our kids, other than he's sick. And we probably had a talk about the affects of alcohol. For the most part I put up my shield. I knew what was going to happen eventually, I had researched and knew how serious it all was. They didn't need to know. When he got pneumonia and ended up in the ICU and we didn't know if he was going to make it, I had to sit down and have a conversation with my kids that I NEVER in my life wanted to have. It was hard, but I told myself from that point forward I was going to be completely honest with them. I told them exactly what was going on, I let them ask questions, and we all cried. They know what's going on now. I don't know how much it will help when the day comes that their dad isn't here. But, they know they can talk to me. And when that day comes if they don't talk to me....I will talk to them. This experience is hard for all of us. But the one thing I've learned is no matter how hard it is we keep our lines of communication...honest, open and real for their level of understanding. My youngest only understands that his daddy is very sick and my three teenagers understand....their dad is VERY sick. As parents we need to give a little credit to our kids. They understand and can handle sometimes more than we think. There are things in life my kids will have to learn on their own. But, I have learned I can't shelter them from everything. I can say I'm blessed with kids who talk, who tell me what's going on. Probably not everything....because what kid tells there parents everything. But enough that I hope I know what is going on with them. Life is hard....I don't want my kids to be scared to experience it....I want to help them find the tools to live it.
Thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.
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