Parents...
I called in to see my mother last Monday when we took the girls to my sister-in-law's. She was telling me about one of my uncles who has been battling cancer for years. Apparently, he had dropped an alarming amount of weight in a short period and can no longer eat, but my mother still expected him to beat this and bounce back to being himself, seeing as he’d just started a new treatment. I tried to tell her that if he’s dropped all that weight then it’s really only a matter of time (weeks if you’re lucky, but days is more realistic) and that it might be kinder to stop the new treatment (knowing that cancer treatments often have nasty side effects). She wouldn’t listen to me, despite the fact that I’ve seen it happen twice with my own eyes. I left her house with the knowledge that I’d explained it as gently, but accurately, as I could and that she might think about it and prepare herself for his loss…
I was at the football club yesterday (first home games of the season, so I was working - we’re not going to talk about how sore and sorry I am today) when I received a text message from my mother telling me that my uncle had died. Who texts such a thing?
I called my mother when I got home from the club, expecting that she’d perhaps called home first and discovered that I wasn’t there (not that she couldn’t have called my cell). She hadn’t - a text message was all I was going to get. She’s very upset, but a little consideration for how you break the news to others would have been nice. While his passing isn’t going to affect my life, it doesn’t mean I’m not upset by it. Anyway, I let it slide for now, but I think a serious talk about appropriate times to text is in order - god, it’s like having another child.
For as sad as his passing is, my uncle had battled cancer of various forms for years and, really, his death comes as more of a relief to those of us who have a more realistic view (my mother is not one of those people). He was one of nature’s gentlemen, who had time for everyone, and will be sadly missed, but his suffering has finally ended, and for that I’m relieved for him. He was a dignified man and always had been, so I can’t imagine how it must have made him feel to loose his dignity in the last week or so (my mother went into graphic detail, yet still thought he would pull through). It’s not like he was young or anything either - he was 79 - and he achieved a great deal in his years. He had a life anyone could look back on and be proud of.
I saw my father on Friday. I haven’t spoken to him since I injured myself, mostly because I simply didn’t have the strength to deal with his emotional state and calls to him are marathon type things that I simply couldn’t have endured. He’s having his eye operation on Monday - this is the one to clean the back of the eye up and see if there’s anything more they can do to save his rapidly failing sight. I may have to pick him up from the hospital on Tuesday morning, but I really hope my stepbrother can do it, because the hospital is in the city and I just don’t know if I can drive that far. Still, one of us will have to go and if he has uni, then it’s up to me.
We actually bumped into each other in the shopping centre and he said he was dropping into my place on the way home. I had only just arrived at the shops and had a list of things that needed to be done, including getting new football boots for Mitch, which didn’t eventuate despite visiting every sports store in the centre, so I was a long while from being home. My father said he had a few things to do and that he had Easter Eggs for the kids in the car. He said he’d drop them at my place anyway. I had one more stop to make when I saw them again, so I ducked into the supermarket, raced around as fast as I could manage and then got stuck for ages at the cash registers *grr* I mustn’t have missed them by much at my place, but I missed them. And the eggs after sitting in the car for a few hours… chocolate sauce anyone? *shakes head*
As for how he’s doing, I’d say there’s been a few backward steps. It was his wedding anniversary the day before and he got very emotional in the middle of the shopping centre. I know these things are difficult to get through, but he really needs to find some strength somewhere and pull himself together - not that it seems he’s interested in doing that, which is a huge worry. If it goes on much longer, I think I’m going to insist that he gets some grief counselling, because it’s not healthy to be so stricken by grief at this stage and I don’t feel anything we could offer would help. Plus, it’s just making the whole situation worse for my stepbrother, who does need to get on with his life.
Of course, I also need to tell him about my uncle passing *sigh* This is something I just don’t want to do at all. He’s not strong enough to deal with the news.
I was at the football club yesterday (first home games of the season, so I was working - we’re not going to talk about how sore and sorry I am today) when I received a text message from my mother telling me that my uncle had died. Who texts such a thing?
I called my mother when I got home from the club, expecting that she’d perhaps called home first and discovered that I wasn’t there (not that she couldn’t have called my cell). She hadn’t - a text message was all I was going to get. She’s very upset, but a little consideration for how you break the news to others would have been nice. While his passing isn’t going to affect my life, it doesn’t mean I’m not upset by it. Anyway, I let it slide for now, but I think a serious talk about appropriate times to text is in order - god, it’s like having another child.
For as sad as his passing is, my uncle had battled cancer of various forms for years and, really, his death comes as more of a relief to those of us who have a more realistic view (my mother is not one of those people). He was one of nature’s gentlemen, who had time for everyone, and will be sadly missed, but his suffering has finally ended, and for that I’m relieved for him. He was a dignified man and always had been, so I can’t imagine how it must have made him feel to loose his dignity in the last week or so (my mother went into graphic detail, yet still thought he would pull through). It’s not like he was young or anything either - he was 79 - and he achieved a great deal in his years. He had a life anyone could look back on and be proud of.
I saw my father on Friday. I haven’t spoken to him since I injured myself, mostly because I simply didn’t have the strength to deal with his emotional state and calls to him are marathon type things that I simply couldn’t have endured. He’s having his eye operation on Monday - this is the one to clean the back of the eye up and see if there’s anything more they can do to save his rapidly failing sight. I may have to pick him up from the hospital on Tuesday morning, but I really hope my stepbrother can do it, because the hospital is in the city and I just don’t know if I can drive that far. Still, one of us will have to go and if he has uni, then it’s up to me.
We actually bumped into each other in the shopping centre and he said he was dropping into my place on the way home. I had only just arrived at the shops and had a list of things that needed to be done, including getting new football boots for Mitch, which didn’t eventuate despite visiting every sports store in the centre, so I was a long while from being home. My father said he had a few things to do and that he had Easter Eggs for the kids in the car. He said he’d drop them at my place anyway. I had one more stop to make when I saw them again, so I ducked into the supermarket, raced around as fast as I could manage and then got stuck for ages at the cash registers *grr* I mustn’t have missed them by much at my place, but I missed them. And the eggs after sitting in the car for a few hours… chocolate sauce anyone? *shakes head*
As for how he’s doing, I’d say there’s been a few backward steps. It was his wedding anniversary the day before and he got very emotional in the middle of the shopping centre. I know these things are difficult to get through, but he really needs to find some strength somewhere and pull himself together - not that it seems he’s interested in doing that, which is a huge worry. If it goes on much longer, I think I’m going to insist that he gets some grief counselling, because it’s not healthy to be so stricken by grief at this stage and I don’t feel anything we could offer would help. Plus, it’s just making the whole situation worse for my stepbrother, who does need to get on with his life.
Of course, I also need to tell him about my uncle passing *sigh* This is something I just don’t want to do at all. He’s not strong enough to deal with the news.