Wednesday, April 25, 2012

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.