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.