Tuesday, January 7, 2014


When I was 25, my father died.  It was on the sudden side.  He had started to have strokes.  Then he went into a coma.  Then he was gone.  From the time we found out that he had had his first stroke to the time he died was around one month, maybe a little more.  (Everything comes together after a while.)  Two months to the day before he died, my cousin got married.  My parents were dancing around at the reception, and two months later my dad was dead.  Anyway, bottom-line is that I have grieved a great grief before.

I know what grief feels like (although grief is different for every person at every point) and I find myself grieving, grieving for my Vince’s illness.  I don’t understand why I feel grief.  Vince is going to be OK.  Actually as far as brain tumors go, he has a good one to have.  Right now he is happy and joyful and active and just like any two year old.  I shudder at what is ahead of him.  I shudder at what is ahead for our family.  I shudder at what is ahead for us all.  I look at my happy boy and I want to cry.  I do tear up sometimes.  I grieve for what my baby has up ahead, for what he has to go through. 

It is a different grief.  But it is still grief. And it is also scary. Like scary in a whole different way than I ever thought I could be scared.  My poor Vince.  You have quite a battle ahead.

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