Tuesday, March 05, 2013

9/10/87

Sometimes hope is lost.  Those days when you wonder why you keep on going.  Sometimes it's work, sometimes relationships, often times health.  Through all my mother's illnesses she never complained to me. In 2000, she said she thought she had hemorrhoids... but it turned out to be massive tumors... colon cancer.

With the lymphoma, it wasn't until about a week before she passed that she told me she was tired and couldn't do it again... all the treatment. She didn't say it until all the options were off the table anyway.

I wonder how often she didn't tell me how she felt.  Knowing she was ill and hearing the sadness in her writing are two entirely different things. I wish that she had felt more able to share her sadness with someone.  Obviously, it couldn't have been me in 1987.  But it could have been in later years.

My heart is breaking.

Forgot Lace's ballet class again. Bah humbug! Tired of living like this. I go from wanting to be dead to scared I'm dying. My stomach has started bloating up like a stuck pig.

Sometimes you wonder
Sometimes afraid
The candle burns fiercely
Then it flickers
Do you run with life
Taking a chance that the wind will end it all
Do you sit quietly protecting the flame
Can you do both
Can you do neither

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