Monday, August 16, 2010

No time for adventures

There is no time this year for new adventures, except the adventures of here and now. There is no space for tomorrow, because tomorrow will be nothing like today.

Today is day 1 of Dad's chemo and radiation. This is my adventure. Walking with my father through the cancer treatment which is more likely to kill him than not, and watching, organizing, and facilitating his life. That is today. Tomorrow he will be sick or he will be dead.

Tomorrow will be nothing like today, because tomorrow is Tuesday and on Tuesday I go back to choir. Something I simultaneously dread and anticipate. I love to sing with these people. I love to know most of them on the cursory level I know them. I despise the driving, the rumors, the politics (though I must admit the silliness of it all does on several occasions delight me). Still the fact that choir is starting up again signals the coming of Autumn and the end of my summer.

Autumn always marks the passing of time for me unlike any other season. I want to buy school supplies, new shoes (something I've just done because let's face it, Autumn always calls for Jeweltoned heels), and oddly, new decor for my home.

I keep wondering when all this will be over and life will settle into normalcy. Then I remind myself that death is rarely quick, and health is just as slow... that means that it is more than likely that this is my normal. Work, buying shoes, singing in my little choir, and working as hard as I can to keep my failing father alive - I can deal with that.

I love this me. I kinda actually love that my life has failed to be anything I wanted it to be, but in that failing, it actually is making me the woman I wanted to be. I have always had the journey wrong. I thought the journey I dreamt would make the woman I am. I was wrong. This is my journey to because this woman. I like her. She's pretty cool. And she's not afraid to lose that big adventure for this smaller and much scarier one.


Mpls Heather said...

I love you. You are incredible.

Anonymous said...

Our perception of 'small' is often the scariest place for big dreamers. Yet, it's often one of the best. I remember this time. It's the anniversary season of my Dad's cancer. This has and will continue to teach you wonderfully despicable things you wish you never knew and afterward will be glad to not live without. To steal someone else's words, "Your life will be richer for this sorrow." And though I tried to say something, in truth, I know there are no words good enough. You're all in my prayers.