What will never be.

It is always the look back. 

It is the look back that will send you into complete and utter hysteria. 

You know the one. 

When someone is walking away and you don't know when or how they will return. 

They look back one last time. 

And a piece of you cracks inside. 

My dad looked back. 

He walked closely behind my mother but stopped before he rounded the corner. 

He looked at me. 

I mouthed.... "I love you" one last time as if it might make the difference. 

Then I was alone. 

In a room full of sorrow... I was alone. 

That silence that I fear so much crept into my brain. 

Words I had heard before ran threw my mind... "No one is coming to save you..."

It got louder and louder. 

It filled my mind. 

I held the arms of the chair. 

I had to get up and I had to move 

So I went to get a coffee....

That's when this day takes the kind of turn only I can tell you about. 

I stood in a line a mile long to get a coffee and a croissant. 

My mind was racing. 

My mouth didn't move right when I ordered. She asked me again and again... "What do you need??"

I got my debit card out and swiped. 

Instantly I was declined. 

We tried again. 

Then again. 

It wouldn't work. 

The same lady who barked at me now looked at me with contempt..... "It won't work"...

I said "Obviously there is a problem with your chip reader"

"What?"

"I work here... I point at the debit card"....."I work here, I have money" ---- I did not say this quietly. 

I wanted everyone to hear me. 

I let this be my focus. 

I noted the kind eyes in the man behind me. 

Like he had been in this situation before. 

"Seriously, here is my mastercard... it'll be fine...." as I smile at the crowd around me. 

"Mam... we don't take mastercard"

"Where is a bank machine, because like I said I have money in this"----pointing to the bank card again..

"Over there Mam...." pointing without looking at me...

I wanted to die. 

But I hauled ass to that bank machine and I punched my pin hoping everyone was watching me. 

I got money out. 

I ran back over with the money and the receipt incase anyone might want to check. 

I waved it... to show everyone 

She quietly told me that the gentleman behind me had already paid. 

I looked around quickly and spotted him. 

I started to explain and he said "It's ok".... It is Christmas after all... he quietly explained. 

We walked in the same direction. 

I wanted to tell him how scared I was. 

I wanted to tell him what was really wrong. 

But I had learned my lesson earlier this year about going down that road. 

We walked to the same area, and I said "Thank you" again and he walked into the area my Dad would be waiting in. 

I looked at the door and it sunk in quickly. 

The man who had just bought my coffee was my father's doctor. 

Now all I could do was wait. 

I drank my coffee and prayed for that man to do two good things today. 

I looked around the room, at people younger and older than me feeling the same way I was. 

Now maybe more than ever understanding I won't be saved, but I am never alone. 

They walked out shortly after that. 

She got to me before he did. 

Her eyes told me nothing.... but the instant hug she gave me did. 

"It's ok now, he's going to be ok"

I felt my legs shake. 

But I remained strong. 

The words I have needed had finally been said out loud. 

I listened to him make his appointment. 

His body was nervous and jumpy. 

As soon as it was done, he walked quickly over to us and held her. 

And then they kissed. 

Not "passionately" but enough for me to turn away. 

He looked at me after and said "Its over Meg, Its what we wanted" 

Everything I had been holding onto for a year felt like it rushed from my body and into the air. 

I gripped him. 

Tightly. 

I did not want to let go. 

I touched his face as our hug ended and I truly thanked god. 

That I would have him for another day. 

For many days. 

So much of this year has been about this day and what it would bring. 

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and as you all spend time with your families, I want to remind you of something. 

No matter what.... Be grateful, Be happy and Enjoy.

I look at these next few days as a gift. 

I begged for this, I prayed for this and I got exactly what I wanted. 

I go to bed tonight grateful and thankful. 

 

tell me it'll be the end of this.

I sit tonight and wait for tomorrow.





Tomorrow we will go to get his final scan.

1030.



For months I have known the date and the time.

I have waited.

I have wanted.



But now, I dread it.



Tomorrow we know.


Tomorrow we have answers.






Maybe tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow I stop holding my breath.

Maybe tomorrow the anxiety will lessen.

Maybe tomorrow I will say "that's what was wrong"

Maybe tomorrow it'll all go away.


Maybe tomorrow the pause stops.



Maybe.



Dear god.


Maybe.

Sometimes you need more.

I know you'll read this.

Because I remember you and the way you operate.


I know you'll read this.

You will roll your eyes and refute each word I write.


I know you'll read this and I know you'll know... you'll look in the mirror tonight before you go to bed and you will know.



She laid on me last week and asked you a direct question.

She asked you why you didn't want to live with us anymore.

You didn't answer.

You cried.

You stood in my home and cried.

I saw your pain.

I watched and waited for you to tell her something that would make sense.


You cried.

I waited.



Then I cleaned up your mess.


Again.



I explained to our daughter how lucky she was to have two families that love her.


I told her all of the bullshit things the books tell me to say.


I watched you.


You winced when I said her name.


When I told our daughter how lucky she was that you and her "loved apple".


You winced.


I watched you.



I didn't cry.



I was strong.



I am always strong.






You always thought it was you... didn't you?



You always thought you carried me.



Do you get it now?


That it's me?



It has always been me.



I make this work.


I don't break or fail.


Ever.



Go to bed tonight knowing that.



I get back up and I keep going.


And now....you need to do the same.


You need to think of some real answers to her questions.


You need to come up with a reason.


Here is where you should pause stop backtracking and rack that brain of yours.



You are intelligent..



I know you are.



I actually still tell people that.... how god awful smart you are.


So think of something to say.

Please.

Not a lie.

Not a glossy bullshit story about how we stop loving each other because thats not true is it?


Tell her a version of the truth that will make sense.


Because without a doubt one day she will find out what you did.


Not just to me, but to her.


You need to explain it.


In your words.

In your way.


With strength and resolute that you did the right thing for all of us.


I look forward to the answer.


I always have.

the precedent and the priority.

She often wakes me before the alarm goes off.

It's way too early, and I still need to run and shower and get ready for work... so this is not something i want to happen. 

But it happens. 

I'll ask her what's wrong and she'll tell me about the dream she had or how the blankets don't feel cold. 

I need her to go back to bed. 

I need her to understand I have a lot of shit to do before she can get out of bed... 

She is persistent and highly articulate about what her "needs" are. 

I either get into bed with her or she is coming into mine. 

My frustration is boiling over at this point.... my sentences are always very broken and sharp... 

"I can't"

"Just sleep"

"It's fine"

Her kind eyes are piercing. My heart aches to do the right thing.

I don't have time... I never have enough time. 

I get it now though. 

She wants it.... 

She wants that time with me... that time that I will just lay with her and be "hers"




I get it because I want the same.



I sit with him.



He looks tired.

So god awful tired.


Always older then the last time I have seen him.




He tells me he's fine.

I roll my eyes.


He smiles.




I move closer as if feeling him beside me will keep him with me longer.


We sit like that for as long as we can.


Until she wants our attention and the moments gone.



But for that moment... it is so clear and so calming.

He is mine.


He is my dad.



He is my everything.



And I adore him.


Everything about him.





He's my first call in the morning and one of my last thoughts before I sleep.



I could never have asked for anything more.


I am grateful for each moment with him now.


Although it feels like our lives are on a stop watch now.. that I watch from a distance... while still trying to enjoy the moment.





He set a precedent at a young age with me.



I knew I was a priority.



He taught me the most important lesson you can ever teach a child.


"No matter what, you can always come home"


No matter what I did, how ever badly I screwed up(believe me no one has ever screwed up as much or as badly as I did....) I knew, I could go home.




Always.



As I lay with her on those early mornings I try to take advantage of our time.


I tell her the things he tells me.


Like how much I love her, or how no matter how bad it is we can always fix it, and how proud of her I am for the small stuff.


I pray the words sink in.


Those same statements have saved me. In the literal sense, they saved my life.  


Over and over again his words often echo in my head at my worst times... reminding me to get back up, no matter how bad it seems... tomorrow will always come, and no matter what you can always find home.


He has four treatments of radiation left.


I could not be more proud.


He has faced this with the strength and courage that only the best have.



As you read this Dad, know forever and for always... you are it.


 You are the best and brightest example of a man I could have ever had.


I love you, stop watch or not... I love every minute of you.



Forever, and for always. 

unsure of what the balance held.

The fall is short but hard.

It's often in the dead of night.

When I am alone.


I am comfortable that way.

I can deal with it alone.


Today was different.


It was 7:23 when the bottom dropped.


I was on talking with my mum, doing everything I could to get off the phone and end the conversation.


It was happening.


When it comes I can't control it.



My cell phone rang and gave me the excuse I needed.


My friends 3 year old son called, as he sometimes does.


To tell me how much he loved the duck game we gave him for his birthday.

His sweet voice gave me a few seconds of calm but it wasn't enough.


Why is it never enough.


The bottom dropped and I could no longer hide.


I could hear the distinctive rustle of his mum grabbing the phone.



"Are you o.k?"


"You need to tell me what's wrong"

"Please"



Those questions seem so simple seeing them.


"Are you o.k?"



Over and over again she asks.


I finally tell her no.



I break the silence that has sat still inside me for months.




I tell her no.




Over and over again.


No.







She tells me she will be here within thirty minutes.

With wine.







I don't stop crying.



I still haven't stopped crying.



In the last five months, I have watched by dad be diagnosed and deal with having cancer, I have watched my grandfather die and I was easily convinced I had found something real to love... only to realize it wasn't.


It's clearly too much.





4 hours later.


I feel my feet on the ground.



I feel stronger.

More hopeful.



For two reasons.



One is the friend.



Who berated me for not calling her.



For reminding me they don't need to know, they want to know.






Secondly, for the txt from my dad at 10:24 that read "Love you"


It's enough.

Enough to end today and start tomorrow.


Enough to get me into my bed and make remember that my life is patiently waiting for me.

The Morning.

It's the nights that seem longer now. 

Nothing I do seems to change it. 

I crave sleep...but my mind fights it at every turn. 

I remember waking up after the morning he left, and thinking... this is the worst it would ever get... that some how that moment would be the lowest of my life. 

It wasn't. 

How could it be. 

When I tell people my father has prostate cancer they say the following.. 

"Don't worry it's the best cancer you can get" or " I know so and so and they said it wasn't a big deal"

Let me tell you...

It is a big deal.. and it is fucking horrible. 

No part of this has been easy for him. 

I watch mostly in silence as the man I love more than anything else suffers. 

I focus on the dates the doctors give us. 

Believing that somehow that will give my mind the relief it so desperately craves. 

As each date passes and a new date is given I have started to understand that quite simply,,,,,

This isn't over. 

It is a time that alone sinks in more than ever. 

I am so god damn alone at this point it feel worse then before. 

I have one thing to hold on to.....

She is four, and doesn't understand why mummy cries when we talk about when pops will be better. 

My normal coping methods no longer work. 

I can't pretend this isn't real. 

I can't pretend I won't lose him. 

As I got her ready for bed tonight she asked me "When can I go to stay with Nanny and Pops for the whole day?" 

I tried my best to explain. 

But the tears flow easily these days. 

She cradled my face in her little hands. 

"Let's just be brave moma... like when the monsters come at night.. and you tell me I gotta be brave"

I tell her it will all be ok. 

But her eyes are so filled with questions, just as mine are. 

So we wait, and hold each other... tighter then before. 

For a date and an answer that never seems to come. 

 

Just a Wednesday.

It was the knock on the car window that made me understand how bad it had gotten.

I was in my car after work when I was jolted back to reality.

My first thoughts were of Apple..

Had I forgot to pick her up? Where was she?

Quickly I remembered it was Wednesday and she was with her father.

Then, I had some explaining to do. The man that runs my parking garage was staring at me through the window.

Instead of rolling down the window like a normal person, I opened the door with such force that it made him jump backwards.

He didn't say a word.

But I did.

I began to explain why I was sitting in the car crying.

I told him about my Dad.

I told him my Dad had prostate cancer, and I was scared.

He just stood there.

I thought I should continue.

I told him I wasn't normally like this and how strong I was.

But that it's my dad.

I went into great detail about how close we were.

I explained how I talk to him everyday, and that if he hasn't heard from me by lunch.. he'll txt me, but how he doesn't really "get" txting and that sometimes he just txt's "?" or "ng" or "w"

When I finally took a breath he asked me a very simple question

"Was it you who dumped a coffee all over the floor this morning?"

"NO... uh, it wasn't"

Even though it totally was.

(I was trying to balance both of my coffees, talk on the phone and put my mitts on at the same time... )

He stared at me.

I stared back.

He walked backwards away from me. Slowly.

As though at any moment I may start to tell him more about my life.

I got back in the car.

It always hits my like this....

How long have I been like this?

How did I become so numb without feeling it happening...

When was the last time I was o.k?

I spent the next hour scrambling to remember the last few weeks.

Trying to piece together what had happened and how I let it get this bad.

It comes to me in waves, as though my brain is being kind to me because I wouldn't be able to deal with it all at once.

She rushed in the door like a storm shortly after.

I felt the blood rush back to my body, and the strength return to my brain.

I am always stronger when she is with me.

But tonight as I sit here alone I can no longer compartmentalize the pain.

I can't pretend like this isn't happening.

His diagnosis has hit me like nothing else ever has.

My parents are a lot of things to a lot of people.

But to me they are everything.

A life without either one of them is not something I have ever imagined.

A long time ago, I wrote about a day that everything changed.

A day that I started to heal.

It was him.

It was my Dad.

Well, really it was both my Mum and Dad.....

But It would be the pain in his face as he looked at me that would turn my sadness into an anger that I had never felt before.

An anger that would carry me for the next year, until I was ready to let go....

I would later learn that he had told those around him

"Just wait until she gets mad..."

Like he knew all along that is all I would need.

But my anger can't fix it this time....and it's killing me.

I would do anything in this world to take this away from him.

Anything.

But I can't.

That devastates me.

My relationships with my parents are equally special.

My Mum, is without a doubt the strongest person I know. She is the glue that has always held us together. She is so perfect in my eyes, it is hard for me to imagine I am her daughter.

My Dad, is the reason I'm funny.

He's the reason I have to keep going even on my worst days, he pushes me probably without even knowing to be patient, kind, and balanced.

My parents are the most amazing people I know.

When I am at worst, they are beside me.

When I am at my best, they step back and let me enjoy it.

All I can do now is hope and pray for the best and that feels painful.

Please do the same for both of them.