Bear..

 How can we sit some days and just let life happen to us? Yet we do. Yet it does.

I went with my mother to her surgeon consult today. (In review, she has a metastatic liver met) I am glad and glum that I went. My mother is an old child. She doesn’t advocate for herself at ALL. The surgeon ended up speaking exclusively to me, even asking me at one point what I did for a living. I told him and he simply nodded and went on talking and explaining. I liked that. My mother will have another scan that should show how reactive her liver truly is and where her tumor is in relation to the liver vessels. Probably, she will have a few rounds of chemo in hopes of shrinking the lesion and then she will have either a resection or some form of cryoablation to render the tumor inactive/dead.

Still, I am sitting here seething with anger over my mother’s docility and her cow-like acceptance of her fate. She feels very sorry for herself but remains unable or uwilling to ask questions…wonder…google…get a second opinion..anything!  I am so absolutely unlike her in every way. I find it hard to believe sometimes that we are genetically related. And yet she is my mother. I don’t want to lose her even if we do have little to do with each other. So odd. It is my younger sister my mother smothers with affection. To the point my sister is physically, emotionally, and financially dependent on my mother. My mother can only care about those who do depend on her. Co-dependent, much?

I miss the days when I looked out at life through a soft haze of…not living in the moment. Is that denial? Or fear? I find awareness painful. Sometimes painfully sweet. Sometimes painfully wonderful. But always painful. I’ve been living in the moment since the boys have come along. I make myself live each amazing brutal day as it comes along. Which makes me  scared I will lose it. All of it. Whether due to death or poverty or some other dire circumstance but it seems I can no longer live in my muffled little fantasy life. The one where I denied the ills of life and just lived for what might be..one day.

That day is here.

And it is filled with little boys who get in trouble for calling his classmates "poopy-butts" and for not stopping saying "fart". And another one who throws colossally huge fits over issues like getting his nose or his ass wiped and who wants to do everything MYSELF!!! With husbands who fight to get remodeling projects done in miniscule pockets of time and just seem to run endlessly in place. Prob due to the same "myself" problem as his 2 year old. With the endless mess of said remodeling projects. Of household chores there just isn’t enough hours in the day to get accomplished. Of jobs and cars and bills and books. Of failed diets and clothes I can never find and lost paperwork that refuses to show up until it is no longer needed. Of bad weather and necessary diapers and health concerns and sore teeth. Of covering grey and sore achilles tendons and mooning over things I can’t afford. Money problems. Sex. Pets. Rugs. Booze. Work. Lack of sleep. Lack .

Life.

Wouldn’t change it. Not for anything. But at times, it’s much to bear.