What a difference a life time makes…
At this point an occurrence not altogether dissimilar to my mother’s is happening in Florida to my father. In the case of both my parents, a blood test proved to be an important indicator of a serious problem. We didn’t know, believe, or fully understand then, that these conditions would prove fatal. My mom’s diagnosis ran through my system like an open sheath of exposed nerves. My dad’s ran through my system like a dull aching drum roll. Both reactions had the insidious effect of depleting my energy, concentration and ability to live a normal life.
I had long viewed the meaning of the word normal with some degree of skepticism, but now I was pretty sure it needed a complete overhaul or, at the very least, multiple additions to its definition. I got through those first months of inquiry with equal parts; denial, fatigue and awareness. When one coping technique ceased to operate, I’d move on to another. It took a longer period of time to sort factual data from personal thinking and emotional reaction and longer still until I was able to combine these ingredients into a unified whole that better integrated with my attitudes and world view.
All the while I wrote my way past doctor appointments, hospital stays and blood test results. Intertwined in the experiences taking place, was the evolution of human change, mine and theirs to be exact. A slow motion reality swept my parents’ in a direction away from the living, away from me. I don’t believe either was ready, at first, to leave their present life, but the time was fast approaching when maintaining the status quo would no longer be an option. I was able to isolate some of the moments in which these phenomena occurred in my writings and I can tell you with assurance, the progression was noteworthy.