Grief is Strange

Sometimes you think you've moved on, that the process wasn't as bad as you feared, etc. Then some days it drops on you like a load of bricks.

In the process of cleaning out office files and old emails, I came across a few notes from Amanda. Stupid, silly, snarky stuff. And I completely teared up and felt like I'd taken a left hook from out of nowhere.

I frickin' HATE cancer.

Growing Up

Like it or not, I've suddenly been faced with the reality that I am a grownup. I don't know when it happened, it just kind of snuck up in there. True, most people realize this in their 20s, but I'm a bit slow, I guess. Despite owning a home at the ripe old age of 21 and taking on progressive levels of responsibility ever since, it never really hit me that I was really, truly grown.

Kids came along, and I have relished reliving childhood memories (and creating new ones for them), but still, did not feel adultish.

I started a couple of businesses. Now I was stressed. But still not grownupish.

And Sadie was born with her complexities and my eyes were opened to a whole new world of struggles, sick children and even those lost. Friends started getting cancer and strokes. I lost a childhood friend of 20 years. I went into this suddenly adult world kicking and screaming, not ready for it. So I ignored it.

And yesterday, I became a grand-aunt. Seriously. And suddenly, very strongly, I feel grown up. And I don't want to be.

I don't want the whiskers that have suddenly popped up on the side of my face. What is that about? I am not thrilled that my body suddenly decided not to support my current lifestyle and eating habits. And I'm disturbed when the teens at concerts talk about bands as "old school" (No Doubt - REALLY? Old School?!) when telling me they enjoy the show. Not. Cool.

So I'm going to pout about it. That'll show you, adulthood. Ppppphhhhbt!

Harlie

One of the wonderful friends I've made since my move to Richmond is Christy, mom to three. Her middle child, Harlie, has been mentioned here several times before - her medical needs are huge. I so admire Christy, who I swear should have an honorary PhD in pediatric medicine. She can juggle a creeping infant and talkative five year old all while suctioning her trached two and a half year old daughter. The woman has cleaned more puke than any full time nurse, attended to countless wounds and can plug in oxygen and a feeding in no time flat. Yeah, she deserves lots of gold stars.

I'm thinking of her today, as she sits, again, in a hospital, waiting for a surgery. I've only had to be through major surgery with a child once, and I can tell you, no matter how tough you are, it's so hard. So, so hard. Christy's sat in that OR waiting room more times than I care to think about (I think this is number 11).

What a lot of people don't get about a major surgery like this is that the surgery, itself, isn't the scariest part necessarily. It's the recovery road. Christy had to pack not knowing how long she'd stay. Planning for the unknown is an impossible and daunting task. It really is too much to ask of a mom, but yet you don't get a choice in the matter. I think Christy does a fantastic job handling the hand she's been dealt, even if she thinks she doesn't.

So say a little prayer for Harlie today as she undergoes yet another surgery (this one's open heart). And, just as importantly, send a little good mojo to Christy and her family!

UPDATE: Harlie did well in surgery, though they were unable to do all they hoped because her heart is so complicated. She woke up briefly afterward and signed a bit with her parents. Should be home in two weeks or so if recovery goes well!