It kind of works

I’ve been trying to not be flipped out about knowing more precisely how (if not when) I’m going to lose my dad. Because it’s that: I knew all along that statistically speaking, he was going to die 1) before me 2) sooner rather than later, and that all that is completely normal.

Now we know he has a cancer, and it’s metastasized, and although he has no pain yet, he probably will. I hate that this is happening.

So, about a zillion times a day, I tell myself the things that are reasonable. He’s had a long, healthy life and was never seriously ill before. He is in no pain. In spite of some dementia, he remembers my step-mother, and me and my sister. He’s kinder than he ever was before (at least over the phone). I’m going to get to see him at Christmas, hopefully (who knows how fast this thing will progress). I try to breathe deeply, and be in the moment, and not think too much about the future. I push my neck back up from it’s slumped over position and sit up straight. I meditate in the morning. I do yoga.

Of course I keep screaming to myself “He’s going to die!” which means “I’m going to die!” and I get all mopey and feeling sorry for myself.

So I go back to telling myself all those reasonable things, and straightening my back, and breathing deeply, and doing yoga. And then I start bawling again. (Lather, rinse, repeat!)

It kind of works, telling myself all those things that I should be grateful for. Not entirely, because he’s still going to die, and I have to feel sad because it’s all his (and my mortality) that is in question.

Foro could very well be almost immortal (he could exist until the end of the planet, especially if I bury him in some hermetic box at some point) so he’s very wise about these things, but it’s a tiny bit snotty. He’s not going to die. When I’m sad, I try not to look at his smile like its smug, but benevolent and kind.

How could anyone be envious of someone so cute?

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