father

 Context

I don't think i ever really knew my mother - though I probably knew her better than most. She was deeply willing to share bits of herself with me ... but she had a twisted and jaded mindset, so every word had an extra layer of guilt and expectation.

When my mother died, there was a funeral. I remember being distracted and very distractible. We'd had the luxury being able to say goodbye - she was trapped in a hospital bed, unable to eat, as her body actively deteriorated - and so I had the luxury of visiting and knowing, on that day, it was likely literally the last day I would see her. The goodbye then didn't seem real.

On the day of her funeral, I suspect it was expected that I would speak. Maybe not a long word, but an earnest one. But I didn't. I chickened out. I couldn't seem to find the words. Instead, it was a marvel - someone at the funeral home asked about 10 questions and was able to reverse engineer something of her life story. It didn't have most of what she had shared with me, but what they were able to piece together was a marvel.

I guess most of us aren't as distinctive as we would like.

But I established this context because now my dad is fading. He isn't sick, but he's been unwell, mentally, for a bit. And he hasn't gotten better.

Discovery

I operate out of fear

I had anticipated that the next time life threw me a similar curve ball, I would NOT shrink away from the challenge. I would face it head-on. I don't know if I was lying to myself or if I just didn't quite recognize the challenge, but facing it head-on is not a way to describe how I responded to the latest news.

Instead, I lifted up my mouth and quietly screamed.

I guess there is a part of me that is a scared little 10-year-old who never grew up.

How many of us are really kids who refused to grow up?