Life
Daddy came back from Germany on Sunday. When he called he said he hadn't been feeling well and... his skin and eyes are yellow. He went to the doctor today and it's anemia and some sort of liver disease. I'm not sure if they didn't know what kind, he didn't know or he just didn't tell me. He's in the hospital tonight for tests and crap and I suppose I'll find out more tomorrow.
Under normal circumstances I suppose this wouldn't bother me that much. People deal with liver problems all the time and it's not a huge problem - if you change your lifestyle. And I don't know that he can. He eats one meal a day and subsists mainly on whiskey and pain pills. He has for decades. How do you change that?
So I'm nervous. I have the unrelenting feeling that I now have to deal with my father being old. And sick. And it sucks.
That's what life is, I suppose. Dealing with the crap and trying to find supreme happiness in the beauty of a tree. Usually I'm pretty good at it. And I'll get back on track, after some rest and a nice bubble bath.
There's still beauty in these kinds of days. I can see it in the concerned faces of my friends and their immediate repsonse to my phone messages. "We're here if you need anything." They don't immediatly respond with a hundred stories about trials they've suffered and fears they've faced that are, I admit, much worse. No, they remind me that I'm not alone and not only is an "I" there to help, but a "we" is. A team. Somehow this web of people I've managed to find has become a team. And that, I think, is the secret to life.
Under normal circumstances I suppose this wouldn't bother me that much. People deal with liver problems all the time and it's not a huge problem - if you change your lifestyle. And I don't know that he can. He eats one meal a day and subsists mainly on whiskey and pain pills. He has for decades. How do you change that?
So I'm nervous. I have the unrelenting feeling that I now have to deal with my father being old. And sick. And it sucks.
That's what life is, I suppose. Dealing with the crap and trying to find supreme happiness in the beauty of a tree. Usually I'm pretty good at it. And I'll get back on track, after some rest and a nice bubble bath.
There's still beauty in these kinds of days. I can see it in the concerned faces of my friends and their immediate repsonse to my phone messages. "We're here if you need anything." They don't immediatly respond with a hundred stories about trials they've suffered and fears they've faced that are, I admit, much worse. No, they remind me that I'm not alone and not only is an "I" there to help, but a "we" is. A team. Somehow this web of people I've managed to find has become a team. And that, I think, is the secret to life.