Cancer…

When my Dad was diagnosed, in 2012, with a cancer that had only been documented in 200 cases in the whole of the UK. The local doctors did not have a positive outlook, they were convinced that things would be tricky and were not sure he would have much success beating it at the time.

I had just returned from a weeks holiday in the Greek Islands. I had a feeling something was wrong before I went away, because my parents were acting strangely. But, like parents do, they kept it from me as they wanted me to have a good holiday and enjoy my break from work. They gave me the news the day I landed back in the UK, suffering with a severe case of Tonsillitis and barely able to speak.

Sometimes you forget that your parents are getting older. It is something like this that reminds you of the finite reality in which we live.

In 2012, my Dad was lucky. His cancer was rare. The Royal Marsden Hospital in London told us that they had only managed 200 previous cases and it is a cancer they don’t know much about. But they were willing to operate and seemed far more positive than the local doctors. My Dad spent two weeks in hospital after the operation, with my mum camping in hospital accommodation so she could help him to pull through. Every day I waited for the call; the bad news. But despite a few setbacks during his stay, he returned home and started to recuperate.

Since then every check up he has had to go to left my heart in my mouth. Waiting for that call/text. Just wishing to hear that everything is still OK. and until last week, everything had come back OK. Or OK enough. At his last check up he had a small lump, but as the doctors did not appear concerned. Neither were we. I feel like I took the good news for granted. Every check up, I prayed. I don’t believe that there is one God, maybe there isn’t a God at all. To be honest, there is too much horror and evil in the world for a belief in God to make sense to me. But I prayed anyway, because when there is nothing you can do, sometimes a supernatural belief is the answer. Even if it just gives you a tiny splash of hope at the time.

I even went with him to his appointments on a few occasions, loving the time together, even though it was spent on train and underground then endless hours waiting between appointments at the hospital.

I am a logical person. I work with teenagers everyday and help them through their troubled lives. So I feel like a complete fraud today. I know what I would say to one of my learners in this kind of situation. Yet I still feel sad and for me that doesn’t feel OK.

 I am the kind of person that likes to be strong for everyone else. Doesn’t like to depend on others, because, well let’s face it, you can be let down by the world around you. The only thing you can control is yourself. So I always thought I should be who others believe I should be. Well, today, TODAY, I can’t be that. I can’t be the positive person. Today, I feel sad that my mum might lose her soul mate. That my mum has to come around to the idea that one day between now and whenever, she will say her last words, share her last cup of tea, give her last kiss to the person who means the most to her in all the world. The person who has been her everything.

I will never experience that kind of love. The kind of love fostered and grown in a long forgotten time. The kind of love that weathers the hard times and comes out fighting. I will never have that.

I cry because of that. Because my mum and dad have been through so much already. That my parents have loved each other and their children through every moment of their lives.

I will never have their kind of love. Maybe because I don’t deserve it. I strive to be a good person, but fall short of being pure and good by a mile.

My parents love each other heart and soul. Forsaking all others. Against the odds. I live in a society where if the grass is greener, we try the grass to make sure. That’s what makes me sad.

Bad news always comes when you least expect it

This week I am supposed to be enjoying the Easter Holidays. It was supposed to be a time of relaxation, preparing for the new term and helping my other half with his business. It was all going to well, perhaps a little too well.

A week ago, I received the news that my Dad, who has been cancer free for 4 and a half years, is now terminal. The doctors simply told him; there is nothing they can do and to get his effects in order to prepare for the worst. Even as I write, the tears fall from my eyes, trickling down my face like angry warriors. I know that it is news I should have been expecting. When someone has cancer, it is likely to return, no matter how much you wish for it not to. And no matter how much you think you will be prepared for the news to come, you really won’t.

I thought I had done all my crying when he was first diagnosed with a rare sarcoma; I cried almost non-stop for a week and thought at the time that there couldn’t possibly be any more tears left. I was heartbroken. That might sound silly, but that is how it felt. Like a hole had been cruelly ripped in my heart and it was never going to mend. In the past week I have cried three times. When I was told, when I thought about going on holiday at Christmas and when I couldn’t remember his favourite soft drink when I went to the garage.

Today, it has truly hit me. Today, I came home from taking my mum to her check up and I understood in my heart how much they mean to each other. In a how will they live without each other kind of way.

Right now, I feel numb. I know my world is changing and the reality that my Dad will one day no longer be a part of that is more real than I can accept.

IĀ feel helpless, vulnerable, lost. I wish I could do more. But I know, I can do nothing.

Nothing. In this world, the knowledge that you can do nothing, is an unacceptable pain we will all face. And I can tell you it is one of the worst feelings you will ever experience.

 

The world

This is the post excerpt.

The world is a dark place. Sometimes. It can be a place where everything seems impossible, unreachable, broken. A place where hope is so easy to inspire and so simple to destroy. 

Life is a long, dark alley way with a hundred doors and no sign posts. We can either choose to make decisions and hope to strive. Or linger at each doorway wondering what lurks behind each choice, considering the what ifs.

But what ifs are dangerous. The dreams that may never come. The whispers of fortune on the horizon. The sirens of the sea. If you live your life by what ifs, you risk living a life regretting your choices and beilieving the life you have chosen isn’t good enough. That if ONLY you had made a different decision, things would have turned out differently, better.

Living your life like that is wasteful. Destructive. Life should be lived in the moment. You will regret things and wish you had taken a diffferent path. But inevitably, your choices are your own and no matter the result, you should keep pushing forward, continue to pursue your dreams. No matter the obstacles in your path.

If you had chosen differently, taken the path you regret passing by, the obstacles would almost certainly remain the same. And therefore the wishes and desires still longed for and not yet achieved.

Life is for living. So live. 

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