Numbered Squares

Thirty days has September, April, June and November. I love my calendar. Crazy thing to love, eh? Although lately I have been ignoring it. Ignoring future dates. Ignoring the beginning of school for the kids. Ignoring open houses. Ignoring the planning of Little New Neighbors activities..likely to get fired from the board. Ignoring deadlines for the Women's Christmas Celebration at church. Another one...can you be fired from a church committee? Ignoring calls from friends wanting to catch up. It's not that I don't want to do these things, but rather the thought of normalcy is so foreign to me right now. It has taken on the role of a stranger. "Hello, panic! You're back...you can leave at any time...I need to focus".

I don't want to think about days...my futile attempts to fill in the numbered squares. Guilt sets in. Guilt stemming from the fact that as I write this, my dad sits at home. I wonder if he hears ticking..ticking of a clock. There is silence. No noise from the grandkids running around. You see, we all had to come back home to regroup. This is something that I am not dealing with very well. He is at home seeking treatment, but the treatment is aggressive and has already taken its toll on his body. It is so sad that the medication to ease the pain has side effects that are just as bad or worse as the cancer.

Trav caught me looking at one of many websites that help patients and caregivers cope. I have met some dynamic people with their own stories of pain and joy. The sad thing is, there are very few, if no stories of survival. I responded to a post from a man whose mother had the same symptoms and diagnosis as my dad. I wrote to him seeking some additional info on her course of action. It was while I was sitting in an auditorium last week at the 2009 Leadership Summit that my phone began to blink. It was the kindest note from him. As I began to read the note, I could feel the "feeling" rising up in my throat. I knew what he was going to say next...his mom had passed away in June. I sat in my seat, tears running down my cheek, surrounded by friends and colleagues who couldn't tell the difference...if my tears were those of sadness for this man...my dad...or the poverty crisis this world is facing. I wanted to scream out, "I can't deal with my own crisis". There are so many with similar stories...I am just one of the numbers. I want my story to be in the forefront. My loved one is suffering. My loved one is dying. I am experiencing guilt. Tough words of honesty. Hard enough to type them, let alone say them aloud.

My dear friend JM told me this morning that I am going to have to let it all out. I have to feel the anger and sadness and it's okay to do so. I thought I had already done so, but now feelings of guilt are creeping up. Guilt felt from not being there with my parents right now. Guilt about trying to figure out some major things for my immediate family. Guilt about feeling withdrawn from the kids and Trav.

I'm a planner..wanna be spontaneous gal. This life experience isn't something that fits in the numbered squares on my calendar. I think if I just forgo the calendar for a while, I will be able to fill my days with more meaningful tasks. Tasks that are fitting to a mom, wife, daughter, friend and child of God. That's one thing I can plan on.