I haven’t felt inclined to write here this week, which seems to be the case whenever I’m experiencing feelings related to stress or sadness. So, tonight I am trying something different, I am going to drop some thoughts here on a night I’m feeling bummed out.
Yesterday was a family reunion for Malcolm’s mom’s side of the family. No huge crowds or stressful situations, but I still felt exhausted afterwards.
Today was Father’s Day. Typically a day I would celebrate with loved ones and enjoy. This year was different. Not bad, not good. Just different. And I guess it left me feeling kind of sad.
Since we moved to Minnesota in 2008, I haven’t been able to spend an actual Father’s Day with my dad. He and my mom reside in Colorado, and I only get to see them in person about twice a year. I wish it could be more, but with a business to run and their homebody lifestyle, that’s the way it is. We mostly make the best of it, and Skype has been a godsend. At least I was able to see his face as he opened his card and gift. I honestly don’t know if I could survive the distance from my parents were it not for this technology.
Today I got to hear about my parents having lunch out with my brother, and errands they ran. I shared with them the status of Mal’s aunt Helen, who last week entered the hospital after a (let’s just call it “scary”) bowel movement. On Friday tests confirmed that she has colon cancer, and a surgeon will be removing the mass on her colon tomorrow morning. She also has a separate mass on her intestine that will need to be removed, as well. Aunt Helen is a spunky, fairly active 86 year old, that has shown signs of slowing down in the last year or so. My suspicion is that this is due to the disease growing inside of her. My family is very close with Mal’s immediate circle of family, so when we worry and grieve, my family does so right along with me. I’m very lucky to have married someone who not only do I mesh with perfectly, but our families do, as well. I never thought I would be so fortunate.
I must also note that I received an email early this morning from a pregnancy site that I subscribed to before the loss of my pregnancy earlier this year. It noted that I was now (or, would be) 20 weeks along in my pregnancy. Half way there. I only wish I could know that feeling today. It would have been fun to celebrate Mal’s status today as “father-to-be”. I can only quietly mourn, reflect, and pray that we get another chance next year.
So, a flood of emotions has weighed me down this weekend, and sort of crested today. I haven’t eaten well — sporadic and unhealthy. This disappoints me, but my sadness has squished out my fire a little. I know I’ll be back on track… I just really miss my dad. And I’m so concerned for my (yes, she is like my own) Aunt Helen. And, I wish that tonight I was able to spend the evening lounging on the couch next to Malcolm, smiling as he rubbed my stomach, hoping to feel a little kick or love tap from our little “Cupcake”, as we so lovingly called our little one that we lost. I wish we were cuddling and pondering our expectations of the ultrasound that would tell us if we were having a boy or a girl. I wish I was smiling and joyful, rather than broken and lonely today.
This too shall pass. I know I’m strong. I know I’m fortunate. But today, I just need to shed a tear or two.
Happy Father’s Day to my generous, teddy bear of a daddy. Thank you for giving me life, and for working every day of your life just to make mine better. I miss you every day, especially Saturdays, when we used to go out for breakfast together.
And to my father-in-law, who, I am proud to say, loves me like his own and lights up whenever I’m in the room. Instant ego boost every time.
And to my uncle-in-law, Floyd. You know what’s coming to you! 🙂
And most of all, to my precious, devoted, charming, brilliant and beautiful husband. Thanks for holding me up, and for loving me so unconditionally. You are the perfect example of what a father should be, and I love you and thank you for everything you give me every day. Always. Happy Father’s Day, my sweetest of all sweet boys.