Yesterday I awoke to the worst sensation of...well to be honest...I don't know what. Shaking so bad that even lining my eyebrows was a task best left to someone else, and unhinged by an uncontrollable anxiety that flooded over me, I barely made it out the door in time for my first class of the semester. I got there fine enough. Comm 1010...covered the syllabus...sent them on their merry student way. Class over... but the anxious shakes were not.
While I couldn't come up with any truly concrete reason for my distraction...deep inside I knew it had something to do with my dad. I've always felt close to God and when I have these kind of emotional tremors it's fairly wise to listen. Too far away to do much about anything troubling me, I did the next best thing...I used my cell phone. Calling mom and dad yielded no answer. Calling sister Mel reaped the same. Calling sis Jen...I finally got through to someone.
I told Jen about my feelings and she seemed to think that they were completely valid. She let me know that things that morning weren't good for dad...as they so often aren't these days...and that sister LeAnn was on her way down from Wyoming. Or course knowing that...really didn't help much at all. Most everyone in the family knows that a visit from LeAnn is never pleasant.
Through all of this I have worried most about my mother. Don't get me wrong...I love my dad...but he is disappearing into the void and our mother is the one that has to witness this 24/7. Our family has always been one to downplay illness of any kind...which makes this time that much more difficult. It's so much easier to say everything is fine than to admit that the proverbial "shit has hit the fan".
I hate not being close enough to simply drop by my parents house and check in myself. I hate having my guts twisted up in so many knots as to challenge a boy scout. I hate breakdowns in the communication channel...which plague my denial prone family. But, most of all, I hate Alzheimer's! I can't stand this sneaky, villainous, thief in the night that steals my father from me.
The day draws to a close. I eat something, hoping that it will ease my mind, and find myself at home. I do the only thing I can...I ride. My bike and me cruising along the river pathway at dusk. The chill night air surrounds me in it's cleansing breath. Miles sweep away...and sunlight dwindles. Soon I find myself racing against the encroaching darkness. My surroundings transform as I pedal faster. The shadows become living things that press in around me. I'm unafraid and under the spell of my own intense concentration. Then it comes...my muse. I open myself to it and soon I'm home.
I write and Steadfast and True unfolds it's pages to me. Chapter one almost done!
Sara Jade Woodhouse
Well said, my dear friend. I grieve with you.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
ReplyDelete