it’s been one of those weeks.
one of those weeks where you head into it knowing it’s going to be crazy. and you’re right—but not for the reasons you’re expecting.
your to-do list is a joke: more things piled in each day than can possibly be done. but you have high hopes. #unrealistic
there’s a big weekend coming—dresses to sew and please PLEASE finally finish the boy’s suit. maybe? there’s etsy shop orders to do and finish and ship for patiently waiting customers.
then your dad goes to the hospital sunday night. and there’s talk of emergency surgery and things are up in the air.
and so you breath a sigh of relief. and head down to the cafeteria for a snack because you’re one of those people who secretly actually kind of love hospital food.
then a 14 year old, who’s story you’ve been following for a while now, succumbs to the cancer that’s been plaguing her for five years.
and you don’t know her personally…but does that matter?
when you’re sitting in the hospital room with your dad and your phone dings a new message and you see what it is—a notification from a caring bridge site--and you instantly dread opening it because you know—you JUST KNOW—what it is…yeah, it’s been one of those weeks.
because even if you didn’t actually know her, she’s a FOURTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL for cryin’ out loud and she should be playing with her sister and talking about boys and laughing and having sleepovers and not DYING FROM CANCER.
and then it hits closer. because someone you DO know personally—a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a good woman who has been battling her own battle for over a year now also succumbs.
and that’s what this is really about.
today it’s been one of those days. this week has been one of those weeks.
my silly to-do list made me chuckle when i saw it on the fridge this evening. because it was done for by tuesday, when my brain packed it’s bags and took a brief hiatus. it hit the high road and all i could do was untangle yarn.
three hours spent sitting at my dining room table, untangling yarn, with only my thoughts as company.
by wednesday i was spent. it’s been one of those weeks that by hump day i didn’t even have words left—me, who has too many words all of the time. and i had to ask my husband to pray the words i couldn’t come up with anymore.
today it was over.
tonight in line at walmart i turned to jeremy and said i feel the need of a good cry.
i need a cleansing cry.
it’s been one of those weeks, you know.
my daddy will be okay. he will most likely be released tomorrow. we brought him balloons and watched his tiny tv with him yesterday.
but i’m thinking now of a family without a wife and mother tonight. a woman who is me in ten short years. her children a little older, her marriage a little longer. she was kind and funny and although we weren’t best friends she was a friend, and her passing has put an ache in the middle of my chest that literally physically hurts. the last time i spoke with her she was weak. and tired. and sad. and she told me to enjoy every minute with my babies. and she told me that she would give anything to be where i was—young, happy, with health and life ahead of me. but then she told me how thankful she was though that she’s older now, and that her children aren’t babies anymore. because at least she got to raise them this far and how much more difficult would this be if her children were still babies?
how do you answer that?
it’s been one of those weeks. my prayers have turned to thankfulness for my father, and comfort for grieving families.
if you’ll excuse me, i need some chocolate now.