It’s been a rough couple of days – more rough for Jan than for me, so I have no room to complain. Yet I will.
Have I mentioned lately that cancer sucks?
Did I tell the sad tale of my meltdown at the MM Conference a few days ago? There was a raffle, $20 for 5 tries at a Tiffany box, ostensibly with something pretty amazing inside.
The next day they had the raffle – and we won – but the tickets were left at home so we couldn’t prove that we’d won and they had to move on to the next number.
I was pretty angry. Stupidly so. Poor Gerry.
I just kept thinking, “I want something GOOD to happen, I need something UNEXPECTEDLY GOOD to just happen!”
And it did. I missed it, but it definitely happened.
The anger I was feeling was due more to the tension and stress of life right now than missing out on a stupid prize (I’m not even a big jewelry wearer – I got a lovely pair of Annie Adams earrings 9 months ago and I’ve worn them just about every day since then, I’m so predictable!)
I think I was just mad at the world for a few minutes, and Gerry happened to be standing in for the world at that moment.
On Sunday we went out to Long Island for a family visit / reunion of sorts, and everyone was so glad to see Gerry looking amazingly well. His cousin, Melissa, has become a knitter and showed off her socks with her beautiful little daughter. My work here is done…
Now I’m just tired. Being the bad guy is wearying, bearing necessary but bad news is exhausting. And I have a drive back to NJ today. I also have a really wonderful audio book that I’m listening to, but it’s the kind of day when it seems that all the bleakness and pain in the world is hovering over my head.
It is quite lovely outside here in beautiful Marietta, though. On the trip down there were a few thunderstorms, and it’s been misting every morning here in the Ohio valley. This is a beautiful little town, the oldest in Ohio, with some stunning period homes.
The cemetary is quite lovely. I try not to drive past it, though.
Enough with my blogging break – back to my cousin! She’s feeling as though I’m taking away everything that she loves, I know it must seem that way.
How can I explain that it’s Cancer that’s taking it away. I just want to make sure that she retains as much control as possible over her life as things seem to be slipping away.
Pretending a loss isn’t happening doesn’t keep it away. Facing it allows one to retain whatever small control is possible. But that’s easy for me to say, I’m the one with the keys to the car.