A Change Is Going To Come…To My Family

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.

About Henrietta Handy

I have returned home to the mountains. No more am I "a mountain-girl far from home." Diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis at 2 1/2, I understand pain, fatigue, laughter, joy, and love all while on crutches and in wheelchairs. This blog is just about me, mostly the writing side, but there are forays into so many different topics. I am married to a wonderful husband who puts up with my writing, knitting, yarn, with the love of a saint. We have fur babies, and one cat who rules us all.
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2 Responses to A Change Is Going To Come…To My Family

  1. Brian Bixby says:

    “Like” is of course not the proper term.

    That’s quite a loss, both sister and her son. I’ve lost parents, but they were both 92 (though quite a few years apart), and yet that itself is wrenching. I’ve been watching peers die, which is a bit more personal, in that they are OUR age. But a nephew? And sister, when you’re not exactly Social Security material?

    I’m not the right person to be offering sympathy. I don’t really know what that is like.

    And yet . . . I was just talking to my relatives in Saskatchewan about our ancestors in Nova Scotia. (And I’m in Massachusetts. We are not a geographically stable family.) Our grandmothers were part of a family of ten, of whom four died before age ten. A lot of people died young in those days.

    What do you say to those dying? What you wish you could do with them, if they lived? What you best remember them for? What you want to apologize for? How you wish you could have spent more time with them?

    I’ve been following your blog for a while. You’ve had a poor hand in health dealt to you. Life has been circumscribed in ways it isn’t for most of us.

    And maybe that’s the point at which you know best how to deal with your family’s nightmare. Illness, the sad limitation of possibilities, these you know. And you know how you’ve best been able to handle them.

    Offer that same kind of help and support to your sister and your nephew. Speak and act from the heart, from YOUR experience. And talk to them about theirs.


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