I rationally know that there should be pauses in life. All of my hobbies hing on timing: music, dance, martial arts, even weight lifting and running. To have good timing, you have to not only know when to do something, but when to not.
Today, I told work that I’m going to stop working (sans two important phone calls over the next week, I know, I know). I’ve been trying to telecommute for over a month now, and they have been more than generous to let me. But, I need a pause. Daddy had pneumonia, is struggling to breathe and is not making any sense anymore. It’s heartbreaking to hear such as rational man not make sense. It’s heartbreaking to look into his eyes and not see my bubbly, warm Daddy looking back at me anymore.
My brother is struggling with when to pause too. He has never once failed a PT test, but his very last PT test before graduation, he didn’t pass. If he had been evaluated on his performance the day before, he would have passed. He did PT twice the day after, and would have passed both of those too. Based on how he counted, he should have passed, but somehow his count was not the same as what his reported numbers showed. 4 stinking situps. He is crushed. Not passing means he cannot get home again until next Tuesday, but then is not needed back on base until July 25th. If he had passed, he would have been able to come home this weekend, but would be needed on base all of next week. I have to believe that he is just supposed to get here next Tuesday, and be with us for a few weeks. He’s not ready to hear that, but it’s the only way I know to make sense of it.
The other person that needs to pause is my mother. She’s running around like a banshee. She is now refusing to let anyone help get her groceries or help in any way. She finally told me yesterday that she just wanted to yell at someone because she was so sad. That was nice to hear. It gives me more patience with her. I hate when she runs off. I’m not terrified to have to call the funeral home, or the doctor to pronounce him. But I am afraid to be here alone when it happens. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of that, but I am. I guess I’m not really afraid for him, but I am afraid to experience that much sorrow alone. I don’t get why she can’t see that I don’t want to be left alone here so much.
Ah, family dynamics. Aren’t they great? My dad and I were always a great team. My brother, my mom and I all make a great team too, but it’s different than the ease with which my dad and I worked through things. I am going to miss my dad so much.