High Seas & Low Seas

I went to bed last night flying high...a wonderful date, a wonderful evening. Fast forward four hours, and I was woken up to "Cailin, we need to take Dad to the hospital." He had woken up in a pool of his own saliva because he couldn't swallow, completely dehydrated and pretty delirious. We got him to the hospital and he was in complete discomfort - they hooked him up to an IV cocktail of: fluids, antibiotics, pain meds, and a steroid. I couldn't help but to cry. I hate seeing him in pain, and it scares the shit out of me when he is disoriented. He was in and out of sleep, and once everything kicked in he was able to swallow again and talk. Hallelujah. My Dad is not my Dad when he's not talking. He's always the life of the party, the head honcho in a conversation, the center of attention. BAH. SO, I was glad when he came back to life, even if it was only because of the drugs they pumped into him. The first thing he said was "Hey - what time is it? 7am? I want McDonald's pancakes". Hahahaha...nothing to eat in 10 days, barely able to swallow water, unable to speak - and the first thing he wants are McD's pancakes. Mom and I had a good laugh...and then we gave in and bought him some pancakes. He ate them like an indentured prisoner, feeling no pain because of all his med's. So the ebb and flow of life...the tide fills in, and the tide rolls out. You laugh and you cry and you're happy and you're sad.

Today has certainly been a struggle...and I feel like the universe knows when you are having a hard time. And I believe that THIS is why we have friends. THIS is why my beloved Julia, who works 360 days a year in Seattle, just so happens to be here during the most difficult week I've had yet. Also, I received an email from a good friend Martha who lives in Ocean City. She has been such a rock for me, person that I can really talk to about death -- why it happens, what I'm going through, how it hurts, and what the fuck I'm going to do about it. Martha lost her sister years ago, and shes described the pain as "always there...but the pain evolves over the years into something more bearable". The email that she sent me today really helped, and I hope that she doesn't mind if I share it with you all:


Hey Darlin',

Yesterday morning I was thinking about you and your parents. Thinking about death and it's potential closeness. Thinking how your Dad might look at you and smile because you are such a lovely lady. You know how to live and love and learn the lessons along the way. Thinking about how if I was your Dad I would be so proud of you and confident that you will go forth and continue living as the beacon you are.
I imagine that it is almost easier for Dad than it is for you and Mom because you two will be left behind... and that's if he moves on from this life in a month or in 25 years... cause you never know.
Treatment is so gnarly... seems like there is no chance to be healthy again... but strange things have happened.
Here's to hoping.

You are on my mind

i love you
peace,
Martha

p.s. November 6 is coming up... it will be six years since my sister died in a car accident... it hits me more often around this time of year. Sometimes I just start crying. I miss her. It's okay... loss is part of life and life is beautiful, so I'll take it

It's okay....LOSS is a part of LIFE,
and LIFE is BEAUTIFUL, so I'll take it.