There Are No Words … Yet I Found Many

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How can I even put into words the range of emotions I’ve experienced over the past two weeks?  Everyone in the family is experiencing their own emotions, and though they may be similar, we all have our own unique feelings.

My first feeling was shock followed immediately by an intense sadness.  Then crept in some anger for many different reasons.

The fact that anyone smokes (and that I once smoked myself) wasn’t the least of those reasons.  They say former smokers are the worst critics.  They got that wrong.  Former smokers losing, or who have lost, someone because they smoked are even worse.  I thought I hated the fact that people smoked before.  Now it pisses me off more than I can express.  I remember when I smoked, I didn’t smell it in my house.  I thought smoking by the exhaust vent in a bathroom or kitchen would eliminate the odor and smoke in the house.  HA!  So wrong!  Smoking in the basement?  Forget about it.  The only solution is to just quit.  Don’t tell me it was easier for me because I didn’t smoke for as many years.  Bullshit!  I don’t deny for one second that it’s hard.  But it has to be done.  One more cigarette … one more pack … one more carton … wait until we find out … wait until chemo’s over … wait until the hard part’s over … wait … wait … wait …  If you wait until the perfect time or even just a better time, you’re never going to do it.

Now that I got that off my chest, I can settle back into the biggest emotion hanging around: Sadness.  I’m almost disappointed in myself for hiding my emotions in front of my dad.  I believe I should have had a day to just let it out in front of him.  What good did it do to suck it up and “be strong” for him.  Why can’t we just be honest?  I’m not saying we should walk around moping and crying all the time, but I also don’t think it’s healthy to hold it inside.  We can be hopeful and positive, but we can also cry when necessary.  And damn it!  Right now I want to cry!  I want to just fall into a heaving mess and CRY!

I’m not necessarily afraid this will throw me into a depression.  I’m pretty sure I have a handle on that one, but we can never say never.  Right?  There can be a fine line between depression and sadness.  It’s wrong to shelter those who suffer from (or have suffered from) depression from sad things in life.  We all have to deal.  My sadness makes me a little numb.  I want to withdraw and just exist in my own little world.  I get lost in my own head.  I walk through the store unaware of people around me – just wanting to be invisible so no one will talk to me.

Then a game of ping-pong begins.  Laughter still happens!  Yes, I can still laugh!  It’s okay to be happy even though something so sad is happening.  Obviously, I’m not happy that the sad thing is happening.  I’m still capable of feeling joy.

And then, just as fast, I’m angry again.  I’m angry that it’s taking so long to get an answer!

Tired…..

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3 thoughts on “There Are No Words … Yet I Found Many

  1. I was angry at my dad for never going to the Dr. I was hurt that I was losing him. I never let him know I was feeling hurt, anger, sadness, depression, only compassion for what he needed me to do for him. I was so wrapped up in making life go easier for him I held my own feelings inside. To this day I hurt so bad and I have never let it show. WHY???? I am afraid of admitting to myself he is really gone, as long as I hold it in no one see’s my weak side because they do not want to think I have one I guess. Evev my own husband has never comforted me in the loss of my father and my best friend. As I am doing at this moment, I quietly cry where no one can see me and then I put it away back within myself to treasure like some kind of prize. HURT, ANGER, SADNESS, LOSS. I hide all these feelings within my body and no one has ever tried to share them with me.

  2. First, while I know it’s ok to cry for your parents *with* your parents, I’ve read recently that the absolute #1 worry of aging and/or dying parents is their fear of how their children will be when they’re gone. And that one of the best gifts you can give them is to find a way to assure them that you’ll be ok. I know it’s true for me – I fear the idea of my children hurting that badly and how their life would be without me far more than I fear death itself.
    As for the smoking, is there any chance that he will quit? I hate to count my chickens before they hatch but cancer has been the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back for my dad. He had one last cigarette in the car before he walked into the hospital for his cancer surgery and he hasn’t had another since. It’s been 3 weeks now and not a single puff. This after 50 years of heavy smoking. So I have hope. I regret that it took something so horrible to bring him to this point, but regardless, here he is. And whether it gives my dad more time or not (he/we don’t suspect it will) he said that it’s been worth it so far because he just feels better over all and in the midst of dealing with his health problems, anything that makes him feel any better is worth being thankful for.
    Good luck to you all. It’s a rough road to be on, for our dads, for us, for the rest of the loved ones, but we keep moving forward. One step at a time. We’ll get there.

  3. My dad hasn’t had a cigarette since the day he went into the hospital with the elevated calcium levels. That was 3.5 weeks ago I believe.

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