It has been pretty icky around my spirit this week. All weekend I dealt with estate stuff from my dad's. Actually, we all did. Then I had a temporary crown put on Monday that wouldn't take, so I was in the chair for over 2 hours. Then yesterday, Mr. Bec was sick with runny runny diapers and throwing up. My sis stopped by after work and by that point I was sobbing. Man, I'm tearing up writing this.
We talked and I told her how hard it was on Sunday to be around dad's stuff. I told her about my sadness, my anger, my guilt, my regrets. How I feel horrible. How sometimes it feels like I will never feel better in the core of myself. Her response surprized me. She told me that she was glad that I finally felt all of this. She said that she and my brother J had a talk about me and were in wonder at how I seemed to not really be afftected by any of this, even years back. Yes, I appeared sad, but not devastated like the rest of us.
So, I guess I'm ready to live like the walking heartbroken. My turn to cry at absolutely nothing. My thoughts have been weird. I start to think of horrible things, barring something happening to the kids. And then I think, guess what, horrible is watching your dad suffer. Watching your young handsome father, die in front of you. It was horrible and I think that it is starting to hit me.
My mom has been very sick these past couple of weeks. Symptoms almost identical to my dad's, although we know she doesn't have cancer. It has flooded me with memories and with dread and with wanting to run away. My dad's birthday is this month. I've been thinking that I want to be someone else. That's weird for me.
But, today I had a rootbeer float that made me feel like there are little things that are still good. A creamy, cold, rootbeer float made my day today. And I could appreciate it too. Throughout this grief, I'll keep those tiny things in mind.