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I awoke in the middle of the night having a strange
dream. It involved George’s mom and the
details are just weird and not something I can or should put into print. As I tried to go back to sleep my mind started
wandering. A song came to mind and now,
for the life of me I cannot remember what it was. Then I started thinking about the fact that
today was the day I was supposed to start my vacation. I had planned this trip for a year and a
half. I was the one that actually got
the ball rolling on the 40th high school reunion and helped as much
as I could from across the country. I
also managed to plan a full out reunion with my college roommates. I know I was looking forward to that the
most. Even a family reunion. To not be able to go has been devastating for
me. I will never, ever be able to recreate this chain of reunions again. I would be lucky if I could make even one of
them happen again.
I feel selfish feeling this way. I mean, George is fighting a battle right now
not only physically but mentally. He had
a rough day today – in part due to how I was feeling. This whole thing affects more than him. We all hate it. Hate that we have to deal with it. Hate that this “C” word has intruded on our
lives. Hate how it is ruling us right
now. It is normal that we are all going
to have rough patches – and as hard as I want to be strong, once in a while I
am bound to falter. Today as that
day. Tomorrow I will buck up and face
whatever lies ahead.
Tomorrow we meet a surgeon and pray that he says he can help
and he has hope for George. George needs
to hear that. He needs to hear that
someone (besides me) feels that he will be fine… Though there is no cure, it is treatable and
survivable. He needs to hear those words
from a doctor. If he hears that he will
fight harder. Right now, though, he is
terrified and there is not much I can say or do to ease that terror. It hovers around him, weighs heavily on
him. I pray for positive news tomorrow.
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