I feel like I’m awake and dreaming today. I slept in on purpose this morning, knowing full well I didn’t have time to do that thanks to laundry and breakfast duties. Then I skipped putting makeup on because I looked at my face and thought, “Good enough.” A driver cut me off on my way to work and I barely noticed, hours keep slipping by with alacrity, and not a whit of any of it is registering with me today.
I’m not sure how many of you know this, but my Dad has cancer and has been fighting it for almost two years. He’s incredibly strong, and more brave than anyone I know, and, against all odds, makes having cancer look like not a big deal. I don’t talk about it much, mostly to respect his privacy. I also keep mum on the topic because, when I look back on my archives, it delights me to re-live the things that made me smile, or fascinated me, or drove me to distraction. I have little interest in re-visiting the things that make me cry.
That’s why I’m sharing this today. My brother called me Monday afternoon to let me know my Dad was checking into the hospital for surgery and would be expected to stay for around four days. I fretted most of Monday night, and spent Tuesday obsessively checking my phone for updates. Testing it to make sure it was receiving calls, stopping myself from calling my brother, typical waiting stuff.
He did finally call and all is well. The surgery went well, and my Dad’s recovering nicely with every intention of transferring back to a regular room later today. After a call like that, it’s hard to get irritated about the petty annoyances of life. I feel disconnected from everything, but not because I’m depressed or angry. I’m transcendent at knowing that, once again, my Dad has demonstrated his remarkable ability to make impossible things look easy and that he’ll be much more comfortable now.
When someone you love fiercely pulls through surgery and comes out the other side waving and well, it’s pretty silly to get all bent out of shape over getting cut off in traffic.