I must admit I am quite tired. Maybe sleep will come tonight?
It has rained a lot here in Leslie County this week. When it rains I want to go outside and just sit on the porch. Haven’t done it yet.
My nephew’s funeral went well I’ve heard. I didn’t get to make it. I am OK with that.
Sissy is…in a lot of pain. She has begun having kidney issues, too.
Sissy is fading away slowly. The only way I get to see her is if someone sends me a picture. Thankfully, we talk, or at least communicate with each other, every day.
All the time, in the back of my head somewhere, I am thinking, “My Sissy is dying of cancer.” Incredulous! Then a part of me wants to panic: “O my God! How do I help? How can I help? I can’t help, dammit, because my body is broken! But still, How can I help her? How can I show her just how much she matters in my world and that I’m really going to miss her when she is no longer in my realm?”
Emotional rollercoaster I’m on one.
To fight against everything disheartening in my life, I am going back to being creative. I’ve been painting, drawing, reading, and slowly beginning to write again. Just one thing can’t hold this…whatever it is I have now. Luckily, my mediums of expression can compliment each other and co-exist without feeling totally draining on yours truly.
I am enjoying the creative expression, but, it isn’t helping to take away the pain of what my beloved Sissy is going through, but it is helping me deal with the change coming our way.
on The Write Practice: What should be included in your first draft? Writing the first draft of a book is incredibly difficult. So much so that many writers don’t even finish their first draft. Why is this? And how can we prevent this from stopping us from writing our first drafts? Every writer who has […]What Should Be Included in Your First Draft? – by J. D. Edwin… — Chris The Story Reading Ape’s Blog
This is a very helpful article! I suggest saving this one somehow gents and gentlefolk.
Today is not a specifically a good day for me. Headache. Bad one. Thankfully it has eased off, but still there. Threatening to erupt again.
I wanted to listen to a movie to distract me, if possible. Then I stumbled upon this movie on YouTube. It was intense, realistic as far as characters are concerned. It is “based upon a true story. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.” That line appealed to the headache.
It was set in 1948. Everything was Good. The war was over. People were getting their lives back, and others were learning how to live civilian. There wasn’t anything about Los Angeles negative. The film exuded pride in America. However, the bad guy is a bad guy head to toe. The thing is: There wasn’t one single reason given for who he was, other than his name. He was a robber, and a killer. He killed without remorse. ‘
Another point that wasn’t given was why was he was doing it? This character needed a lot of money, or wanted more money NOW, but there isn’t one hint as to what he is doing all this to get the money for?
These points notwithstanding, it was a good movie. There was a lot of tension, drama, and action. The people were people: I love when a movie has good characterization.
Has anyone else seen it?
I’ve postponed doing this particular article all week.
My nephew’s battle with cancer ended Tuesday, May 18, 2021 at 5:52 PM.
My sister was in CCICU at the time. She has recently been moved to a regular room. To my knowledge, she doesn’t know her boy has passed.
It is hard to believe he is only 47 years old.
I am not fallen apart. I have not fallen apart so far. Cried? Yes. I’ve prayed for his soul’s repose. It is surreality firmly imposed on reality at this point for me. I do remember the good times, though. Things about when he was a young boy. Things he loved doing like playing the guitar. He could make it literally sing!
The next moment I think of my sister. What is going to happen when she finds out her son, her baby, has gone before her? Will she pass with grief? Will she have a heart attack and die then? Will she be able to handle it?
Her time is nearing, and despite it all, I just can’t genuinely come to grips with its existence. It is an un-real reality.
Here in the mountains of Kentucky we are experiencing one of the many spring ‘winters’. They happen when certain trees and bushes bloom. Now we are in ‘blackberry winter’ which means the flowers are falling off the blackberry bushes. After this there shouldn’t be any more ‘winters’ to have to contend with.
The weather fits what is happening with my world. There is such brightness in the family, yet there is a dullness, a coldness if you will because the family is changing, becoming less numerous. If it were a quilt we would be making a patch to go over the empty place. You can’t make patches though until the hole reaches a certain point. That point is nearing and I am not exactly sure how I feel.
There is sadness yes, but not the normal anger and desire to fight against the windmill giant to make things better. There isn’t any way things are going to get better. Yes, I know God can miraculously heal them, and I believe this with my whole heart and soul, but healing them is God’s choice and decision. Am I angry because God hasn’t healed my sister and nephew? No.
God doesn’t send horrible things onto people. Bad things just happen and it is how we decide to use those horrible things is what is important. Increase of faith and belief can occur while going through the bad things for the person and the family going through those horrible things.
My family isn’t the only one losing people to cancer’s ravages. There are thousands, perhaps millions of families and people, going through this. Does this make things easier? Yes and no. Yes, because there are people out there in the world who understand, and no because I love my sister and nephew tremendously and I don’t want to lose them. I don’t want to say farewell yet. It is far too soon.
Still, the sun is shining. There is new green leaves upon the trees of so many shades and variants words fail to express their beauty. There is also a sense of nobility and strength that comes from them, too.
I am glad I am home for this change, but I would prefer not to have to go through it at all.
The Mitchell’s vs The Machines was a surprisingly good movie. With everything going on inmy world, having a movie actually induce laughter surprised me.
Laughing felt odd. Good, but odd. Laughing almost made me feel guilty. Simultaneously it also made me feel better. Deep down better. It felt almost like laughter was erasing a part of the gloom and immediately I felt a little lifted. As if the laughter made room for feeling more, accepting more.
One of my favorite characters in the movie is the Mitchell mom. She was indeed a mom, but when she saw her “sweet boy” being taken captive she became scary mom, which made me laugh out loud. Real mothers become lionesses when their children are threatened. Yes, it was exaggerated, but the scene was perfect.
The Mitchells are an average family: a dad out of touch with his oldest daughter who is preparing to go to college for film, a younger brother whom the sister adores and who adores his sister; a pug with eye problems; and a mom who is a first grade teacher and average mom. There is no one prepared to save the world. No one really has any skill for saving the world. Still, they end up doing so, and add two robots to the family – Eric and Deborahbot who became self aware and decided they were sons of the family.
The unexpected character that did nothing but was perfect, is the pug. You just have to watch the movie to discover why I say that.
So much has happened. I can’t recount it all. It mostly hasn’t been what I would call ‘good’, and there just isn’t any running away – physical, mental, or spiritual. So, I have been enduring.
My sister is coming to the end of her battle with cancer.
Her son is days, maybe hours, away from dying of cancer.
No, they don’t have the same type of cancer.
I completely understand surrealism now.
This is a creepy nightmare that just won’t go away
I’ve been trying to deal with it alone, except for The Husband, of course; but not writing about it or expressing myself about it has been harder than I thought. I just keep spinning my wheels trying to get out of the mud and all I do is dig myself deeper.
My blog is going to be my safe-place. I know some of you will read (listen) and some of you won’t. But, I really need a friend right now so….
Not everything will be sad or death related. I promise.