Growing Up Is For The Birds

I am 25 days out from turning 36. In my mind I am still 18-ish and my parents are still in their 40's. Not the case I know but that's how I like to think. That way I don't have to worry about my parents and their declining health and where I am going to be emotionally when they are no longer in my life here on earth.

My dad is not well. He hasn't been for a while, but it's getting worse. He has trouble eating. Has blood pressure issues. He has neuropathy and has for a while. A couple of weeks ago he went to the doctor and it was determined that really nothing else can be done for him. He has an advanced directive and it's no secret that he's never wanted any artificial interference with keeping him alive. I've known this for years, but everything in my heart screams to get him to the hospital so they can help him. Isn't that what hospitals do? They fix people.

I went Saturday and saw my dad. Took the girls too. He was up and around and told me he was "feeling a little bit better". My dad has lost about 70 pounds or so and is thinner now than I've ever seen him. that was clearly evident on Saturday. He did have a bit of an appetite on Saturday, which was good. He's been eating so little over the last couple of weeks. We have been doing their yard work, by we I mean Jason, since physically my dad can't do it anymore. He was up and around and it made things seem not quite so serious. Unfortunately on Sunday he was bad either in bed or sleeping in the recliner in the living room. Last night he started getting bad abdominal pain. He's taken some pain meds and has been in bed most of the day, except when he got up and at 6 or 7 bites of oatmeal for dinner. Everytime the phone rings I about jump out of my skin. Worried it's going to be my mom with bad news. My dad is only 65 years old, and to me that is still so young. I still have a lot of things to do in my life and I need him here with me while I am doing them. My girls need their Pop-A for a lot longer.

I am just so sad and scared and anxious and did I mention sad? I remember when my sister Margaret passed away six years ago so clearly. The absolutely horrible, gut wrenching, despair and sadness I felt. I still feel it. I am not sure I can do that again. I just don't think I can. I am a pretty strong person. Or I like to think I am. I am a 10-year melanoma survivor. I have had some surgeries here and there for various minor things. I have four kids that I tend to mostly on my own. I carried triplets to 35w 3d without bedrest or major complications. There are a lot of things I know I can do, but I don't think that this is one of them.

During stuff like this I tend to clam up. Keep things to myself. That's how I deal. How I cope. When my sister passed away Kori was only 18-months old, she didn't understand when I told her. I don't know how I'm supposed to tell my kids. I worry my girls won't remember their Pop-A. It will be up to me to keep his memory alive to them.

I know he's not gone yet. I'm hoping for a miracle, believe you me. I just feel like getting older and having to be grown up is for the birds.