Some people might find this a bit depressing, or a bit uncomfortable so it’s behind a cut.
So I got home today and read Harry Potter – up to Chapter 11 already – and then headed out to get the Hybrid bike to build my mum’s trike. Only it’s not a Hybrid bike, it’s a Hybrid Brand bike. *sigh*.
Still, it looks suitable for Lauren…
Anyway, after a brief altercation with my boot I managed to squeeze the bike into the car (black marks on the backs of the passenger seat again – and headed home. As I pulled up and unpacked, the phone rang.
I wish it hadn’t, but it did.
It rang and my mum told me that my dad is being sent home. Not being sent home because he’s recovered from his operation and he’s well, and so on. No. Being sent home because there’s nothing they can do for him. It is the cancer that’s making him sick and unable to eat, not anything else.
So he’s coming home. To die.
My mother was telling me how she needed me to come back home and help sometimes. More often. And I tried to alay her fears, because I’d regret my whole life if I wasn’t there for my parents when they needed me.
I held it together until I had finished unpacking and shutting up the garage. Then I washed my hands.
Then I went upstairs, held Trey and let go. Just a bit.
Because it’s too big to let go completely. It needs to come out, but it needs to come out slowly. Because if I let it out in one go I’ll completely fall apart.
I’m so scared.
I’m scared for my dad. I’m scared of his pain. I’m scared for my mum, and how she will cope. I’m scared for my relationship, and what this will do, I’m scared for me, because my future depends on one more year. And I hate myself for being so fucking selfish that when my dad’s dying I have that thought. What will I do? How will I cope? Fucking hell.
But I’m entitled to care about myself. I know that now. It’s okay. So I don’t really hate myself. I just need to work though it all. Time and space. Shades of grey. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.
He doesn’t know, but I did something today which was pointless and stupid and made me feel closer to him. I fixed my telly. My new, shiny, stupidly big, dolby surround equpped 32″ monstrosity of a telly. Fixed for 40p.
And it worked, first fucking time. He taught me well, and I am a fucking star. I should sleep, I’m drained. But will sleep come? Or will I be awake like last night? Because I don’t think I could bear that tonight.
