My brother has cancer.
Pancreatic cancer, to be exact, and this is pretty much all I know of the medical side. I suppose I will know more in the upcoming days, and I suppose that I'll wish I didn't know so much by then.
He is quite simply the best of us. He is brilliant and talented and grounded and sane (no small feat in our end of the gene pool). He has raised beautiful, brilliant, talented and grounded children to the cusp of adulthood. He has walked through more fire than I could begin to explain.
He is 48 years old.
My sons adore him from afar. He sends perfect gifts--he sends vast numbers of flashlights and geodes and hammers and goggles (very glad for that last part, I would forget to do that). My children think him exotic and multi-talented and magical. And he is. These boys will need him, want him in their lives, and he will spark interests and talents in them, simply by his example. I need him, if just to look at our family portrait and point and say, "he's not crazy. He's really amazing."
I have too many words in my head right now to make much sense. Words about unfairness and loneliness and fear and grief. Words about my ache for him, for his family, for everything he's made, built, touched. Words about losing too much, too goddamn much, and for why?
My sons' most beloved uncle. My brother.
I should stop now.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Somebody Blinked
You know the pictures--grown-ups posed, children stilled, cameras click...
"Cheeeeeeeeeese!"
Hurray! That Haley's Comet Family Moment When Everyone Shines exists for all time and for all to see. Facebook it. Email it. Make prints for the Christmas card. This is concrete proof that you-and possibly,(but not likely, let's not kid ourselves) your siblings are just really quite fine.
Oh, but Hell--look again, a little closer. Maybe it's someone on the end. Maybe someone in the back. But Somebody blinked!
Ruins the whole shot. And, of course, there's no second chance because those people, in that moment, will never shine quite like that again. Parents will age. Marriages will falter. Children will sulk. Schedules will conflict. Grudges will sprout.
Sheesh. Family, right?
But maybe next year we could all... right?
See, I was part of a picture like that when we were on vacation this summer. So cool. All of us. My husband's extended family. People I haven't seen since, geez, our wedding, maybe. We had a vacation cookout and we told funny stories, and the kids were lunatics and then we took this picture by the pool. Everyone looks happily wind-tousled and sunburnt, the kids made goofy faces and I knelt behind Fuzzy (how else to keep him still?) and smiled, and waited for the six timers on the six cameras to go off.
But it was in that new and happy moment that I realized that my family would never have such a thing. We missed out big. There will never be that picture.
Somebody Blinked.
My family, my parents, my brother and sister and their spouses, the cousins, my kids, extra friend-along kids--I know now that I won't ever smile and wait for that flash. Not because I don't show up on film (although that's always my first excuse when I see a camera), but because, in an instant, in the blink of an eye, we lost our chance.
That smiling wind-tousled-by-the-pool moment passed by my family, as casually as salty breezes do, drifting past us to some other family, by some other pool,on some other vacation. And probably this family, this other vacation family, didn't have to research the number of doors, the depth of the pool, and where the fence ended for their autistic kid. And this other family probably didn't have to worry about Grandma stealing candy from Harris Teeter, or grabbing food off the grandkids' plates during dinner. This family, this let's-set-aside-our-differences-for-the-week-and-relax family, I'll bet they took lots of pictures.
I know I would. But then,that's because I know what we've lost in the last few years.
How it has changed us, hardened us, made us look away.
My sister is silent in a different way. Her blind fury at me (and for what? how many goddamn times can I ask? you know I've asked at least that many times and then some) has silenced her and thus, she cannot, will not explain.
Gone.
And my brother, the only one who can and/or will make words into sense, had some thing, some infection, and almost died in the ICU not too long ago. . I didn't know. And I almost lost him. That suddenly. In the blink of an eye.
That smiling wind-tousled-by-the-pool moment passed by my family, as casually as salty breezes do, drifting past us to some other family, by some other pool,on some other vacation. And probably this family, this other vacation family, didn't have to research the number of doors, the depth of the pool, and where the fence ended for their autistic kid. And this other family probably didn't have to worry about Grandma stealing candy from Harris Teeter, or grabbing food off the grandkids' plates during dinner. This family, this let's-set-aside-our-differences-for-the-week-and-relax family, I'll bet they took lots of pictures.
I know I would. But then,that's because I know what we've lost in the last few years.
How it has changed us, hardened us, made us look away.
My dad tells me that mom is losing language entirely now. Agnosia. Part of the Pick's Disease Package. My mother, once so very quick-witted and gracious, is fading with the tangled fury of a late-summer rip-tide. There are no lifeguards and swimming parallel won't help at all, this I know.
My sister is silent in a different way. Her blind fury at me (and for what? how many goddamn times can I ask? you know I've asked at least that many times and then some) has silenced her and thus, she cannot, will not explain.
Gone.
And my brother, the only one who can and/or will make words into sense, had some thing, some infection, and almost died in the ICU not too long ago. . I didn't know. And I almost lost him. That suddenly. In the blink of an eye.
But there was this one time, tho, we planned to rent a beach house together, all of us.
A lifetime ago. Big Boy was not yet big at all. Fuzzy and LRHF were strictly conceptual in nature. My mother had only just begun to be a tiny bit lost, and my siblings seemed well and happy and tolerant, if nothing else.
So simple. One good picture, right?
What could go wrong? So quickly, so precisely, so mercilessly?
I surely didn't see what was coming.
I must have blinked.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Just Two Weeks...two weeks...
So I am really not a blogger. I mean, back in the day, I sort of blogged, but we called them "boards." A board got me through my first deep south deep summer deep depression pregnancy long long ago. We were an intimate and nurturing crew, some of whom are here on this very site.
I do write, but when people say, "oh you should blog" I am mystified because a) my life is not as glamorous as it may look (we'll get into that later, lol), b) my time is mostly spent scraping a variety of substances, organic and other off the the floors, and c) if I write it down, then I'll see it in writing and that changes things.
I'm full up on change these days. Actually, been full up on change for a good long time now. Moved from my homeland, family, job, friends to another time zone. That's an old change, but it still chafes sometimes.
Thought about maybe sorta kinda having a second child because, well I was probably too old and we weren't really trying and dh was a long distance cyclist and at least we gave it a shot (heehee) and in the two weeks that I was un-contracepted--TWO WEEKS in my late thirties after a rough 80s decade (ahem) with no thought to ovulation or regulated sex, mind you, in those two weeks I made two changes.
The first change was about the second kid. No thanks, decision made.
The second change was that I had already conceived.
Bonus change: Twins.
Double Bonus plus value points: One twin is a spectrum kid. (surprise bonus is that I aaaaaaaaaaaadore him for all his beautiful differences)
Pretty much that's just to explain the title of this post. I really have no idea wtf I'm doing so please be patient.
Today's a lousy day to begin blogging anyway, I think. Recent changes have left my days in-freaking-terminable and yet I get nothing done. Maybe I should mention that I am prone to lousy days. Psychologically, the term is dysthymia (sp?) which means long term low-medium grade depression of organic/genetic origin. For our purposes, it means chronic tendency to sigh.
*sigh*
Yeah, today's not good. I am heartily sorry for this first impression. Here in the deep south, we understand the importance of such things, and I just go on tossing lousy first impressions around like it's Fat Tuesday and I'm riding a float.
*sigh*
But I think I need to write, even or especially on these days. Nobody has to read it, really, that's okay, I live with four males who don't pay me any mind, so don't feel bad about that. It's just that, well, I think I need this. Been told I need this (no copays). So away we go...(could we? lol)
For the record, yes, I admit I have more children than I'm wired for, and I will never, ever, let you forget it, but I do adore them and learn from them and love them fiercely. Also for the record, I feel that same way about dh. Except for the having too many part. Just the one. Ten years and counting. My beautiful dh. Adore him. Could slap him (never have) but am passionately in love with him.
Still, the most recent changes here in Lahlahland suck. More later.
*sigh*
Um...thanks. I'll be back.
lah
I do write, but when people say, "oh you should blog" I am mystified because a) my life is not as glamorous as it may look (we'll get into that later, lol), b) my time is mostly spent scraping a variety of substances, organic and other off the the floors, and c) if I write it down, then I'll see it in writing and that changes things.
I'm full up on change these days. Actually, been full up on change for a good long time now. Moved from my homeland, family, job, friends to another time zone. That's an old change, but it still chafes sometimes.
Thought about maybe sorta kinda having a second child because, well I was probably too old and we weren't really trying and dh was a long distance cyclist and at least we gave it a shot (heehee) and in the two weeks that I was un-contracepted--TWO WEEKS in my late thirties after a rough 80s decade (ahem) with no thought to ovulation or regulated sex, mind you, in those two weeks I made two changes.
The first change was about the second kid. No thanks, decision made.
The second change was that I had already conceived.
Bonus change: Twins.
Double Bonus plus value points: One twin is a spectrum kid. (surprise bonus is that I aaaaaaaaaaaadore him for all his beautiful differences)
Pretty much that's just to explain the title of this post. I really have no idea wtf I'm doing so please be patient.
Today's a lousy day to begin blogging anyway, I think. Recent changes have left my days in-freaking-terminable and yet I get nothing done. Maybe I should mention that I am prone to lousy days. Psychologically, the term is dysthymia (sp?) which means long term low-medium grade depression of organic/genetic origin. For our purposes, it means chronic tendency to sigh.
*sigh*
Yeah, today's not good. I am heartily sorry for this first impression. Here in the deep south, we understand the importance of such things, and I just go on tossing lousy first impressions around like it's Fat Tuesday and I'm riding a float.
*sigh*
But I think I need to write, even or especially on these days. Nobody has to read it, really, that's okay, I live with four males who don't pay me any mind, so don't feel bad about that. It's just that, well, I think I need this. Been told I need this (no copays). So away we go...(could we? lol)
For the record, yes, I admit I have more children than I'm wired for, and I will never, ever, let you forget it, but I do adore them and learn from them and love them fiercely. Also for the record, I feel that same way about dh. Except for the having too many part. Just the one. Ten years and counting. My beautiful dh. Adore him. Could slap him (never have) but am passionately in love with him.
Still, the most recent changes here in Lahlahland suck. More later.
*sigh*
Um...thanks. I'll be back.
lah