Saturday, April 15


I can't take credit for the terminology, but it is so fitting I have to use it. The sadness, the fear, the overwhelming anxiety, it washes into you like a tide coming in pushed hard by waves. It all becomes a wave washing over you.

I was sitting in the tower room watching House Hunters wrapped up in the Boys arms last night, who could want to be anywhere else, and a wave came in. I lost focus and could only imagine the loss, the uncertainty, the question that is lingering over all of us. That Suzanne Wang was bringing us back to a young couples house hunt, and Matt's arms were holding me tightly didn't matter. All that mattered was my Dad has cancer. It was a pretty big wave. And just like that (what is that phrase anyway, is there a better way to transition?) the tide went out, and I was satisfied to be watching House Hunters on a couch with the Boy. Doesn't mean its not coming back in.

Sammy, Rachel, Matt and I went and did errands this morning; it feels so good to be productive right now. We were driving back from the seacoast with the windows down and the sun coming in. Sigur Ros was playing, and unfortunately I can't stream it through the blog but if you can find a song and listen you'll understand. We were all quiet, watching the road ahead, listening to the mellowed music, the sun warming our heads and the breeze softening the glare. I think a wave was washing into all of us. And we all had to let the tide come and wait for it to start heading back out. I asked for a music change as mine receded and everyone nodded in agreement. These moments are going to keep hitting, I know. My Mom says it may become easier to function during them, to not have to stop everything.

I sit on the porch writing this. The sun is setting behind clouds in front of me, my feet peeking above the laptop screen perched on the railing. I feel connected to the green fields that roll in front of me and the chirping of the birds around me. I feel good, I feel at peace. But I can't stay here. My feet are starting to get cold, and the hairs on my arms are raised. And a wave may be on the horizon.

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