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September 16, 2003 - 5:08 p.m. I know I�m supposed to continue on with The Northeast Adventure Diaries, but that seems so long ago now that I don�t know how to start back. I think I had built up a tolerance to work, before the vacation, and now that I�ve caved; done the vacation thing, I can�t get my head around work again. It�s not that I can�t work or don�t want to work (although both of those things could be considered true) it�s more like I can�t start. Somehow, before, when I had all these untaken vacation days, this un-experienced trip there was a possibility of something grand, something exciting and life changing. Now that I�ve used them up, possibility is gone and I just feel like a wind-up toy, cranked up every morning and sent into the grind, but never actually getting anywhere. Ahhh, back to the rut, oh sweet rut, how I missed you. I am trying to change things. I had an interview for a job that went amazingly well. A job that I would love love love to have, but it�s been two weeks and I haven�t heard anything. They said it would be a few weeks before I did, but I�m getting disheartened. Of course, it�s not like I expected them to grab me at the interview, �It�s YOU, yes YOU! The very one we need, the perfect girl for the job! We�ll give you everything you asked for�and a COOKIE!� It would have been nice though, I like cookies. My mom has finished her radiation treatment and her last scan had her at the all clear, she goes back in a month for a follow-up scan to be sure, but the doctors are very optimistic and I�m trying to be. My dad varies. You know, he has good days and bad, but I think he�s stabilizing a little. It�s hard to tell since I don�t see him everyday and when I do see him it�s not really indicative of how he is just �normally.� It�s hard being around him sometimes, not because he has a hard time articulating what he�s thinking or because he forgets things, he does, but because he seems so old all of a sudden. He�s gotten so much smaller and grayer, not like my dad at all. My Father is tall and strong and eloquent and gentle. He�s powerful and brilliant. He�s funny, God, he�s so funny. It�s hard to see that now. I see flashes of it, sometimes, but they are fewer and farther between. I miss seeing how he would walk into a room and people would, almost unconsciously, move out of his way because his presence seemed to fill the room. I miss standing with my mother at the exit of some gathering waiting for my father to make his way to us, it always took so long because everyone wanted to stop him, wanted to speak to him. I hate the way people look at him now, with pity and sadness when they used to look at him with respect. I hate the way people speak to me now, they tell me how wonderful my father is, how he�s �just the dearest man� with that look in their eyes. That look that�s one part, �you poor, poor dear� and one part �thank God it�s not someone I love.� I have people looking at me all the time, at work, at events, people that know my parents, that have known me my whole life, watching me for signs that I�m going to lose it. �You know that poor girl, first her father was diagnosed with Alzheimer�s and then her mother�.cancer! It�s just so sad, the poor, poor dear.� Then when I don�t loose it, �cause I can�t do that, it doesn�t help, it�s like Donna Martin syndrome. The tertiary characters in my life offering up unwarranted and undeserved praise; how strong I am, how lucky my parents are to have me here, how pretty I am, how talented�bah! I�m being uncharitable and salty; I�m sorry about that. I know they mean well. I guess like anyone going through something like this I want to know why. Why does my father have Alzheimer�s? Why then did my mother get cancer? How is this fair; how is this ok at all? What could possibly make it ok that my father will never really know his grandson; that my nephew will have no idea how amazing my father is. My brother sent me an e-mail back in April, after we had gone up to visit them after my nephew, T, was born, he�s a much better writer than I, so I thought I�d use his words:
That breaks my heart. I don�t know who this is sadder for, my nephew, who will never really know his grandfather; my brother and I, who remember how he was and now see how he is and miss him so much it�s like a punch; or my mom. Actually, hands down, it�s Mom. She is going through one of the most frightening and painful experiences in her life and the one person she thought would always be there can�t help, even though he wants to, he can�t. It�s like he�s trapped in a prison he can�t escape from. Thankfully I don�t think he realizes it much anymore; which is a blessing for him and, I guess, a rather mixed blessing for us. The Northeast Adventure Diaries next time, for sure. � Wondering:What got into me today?
Doing:Thinking too much.
Wishing:Things were different, but aren't we all.
Travel back in time True Art - June 21, 2004
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