was a blur. I mean like warp speed, hold on to your hat, Ethel, blur. Dad's PET scan was today. And well, let's just say that yours truly had a hard time processing all the information on Friday. Hubs called and asked me to go to Cape May. Those of you that know me, know that I am not a spur of the moment kind of girl. I am a make a list, cross check it not once, but twice to make sure everything is ok kind of girl. I have 3 kids and various pets to care for, not to mention my own sanity. People have said I **tend** to over think things. I think they are pulling my leg! Me, over think/analyse things? Pshaw, Surly they jest!
Ok, so I succumb to hubs request. partly b/c he told the kids first. (dirty pool, old man, dirty pool). But not before I had talked to mom, and told her that I want to get dad to the shore. He LOVES the shore. The beach, the food, the sand, the food... so we decide that on one weekend we will do it. Now, it is a three hour ride from my house, and a 2 1/2 hr ride from my parents house to mine. that's (if I do the math correct) 5 1/2 hrs of car riding for him... That's a LOT. I want him to go before, well just before. I need one more moment with him in Cape May. One more walk on the beach. One more time to listen to the surf. Just one more moment. We are hopeful that June will do the trick. There is something about going to the shore. When we go to Cape May, we always stop at Ducky's produce, go to the beach and then have lunch at a local place called Mugs. I LOVE mugs. I have LOVED mugs since we started going there. Mugs is a salt of the earth, Cheers type bar, with (what else) mugs n the celing. they face a certain direction, and then when the soul passes, the mug gets turned the other way. I tried to buy a mug for Dad, but alas, they no longer sell them. :(
Off we went to Diamond Beach, to fly a kite and watch the fishermen shore fish nothing more than horse shoe crabs.
There is something about the shore. Maybe it's my Jersey roots, maybe it's the ocean, I am not sure. It was healing. To have my own thoughts drowned out by nothing more than the pounding surf. (It's what every over thinker needs). While hubby coraled the kiddos, I was left to my thoughts, where ever they may roam. I thought a lot. I thought about life, what it means. I thought about death and the implications. I saw weddings, which reminded me of new beginnings, and I was lots of baby bumps which reminded me of the hope for the future. None of those people were plagued with my thoughts. None of them seemed to share my heavy heart. So back to the beach I went to stand in the frigid (60 degree) water and listen to the gulls cry and the waves crash. My kids giggled and laughed and chased sand pipers and gulls. They made sand castes and dug up baby horse shoe crabs. They giggled. They ran. They splashed and oddly enough, they left me be, except for a random "run by hugging". (love those nutty kids)
We left the beach and a piece of my heart with it on the beach. Will we be successful in taking dad back there? I hope so, but am not hopeful... I dread Thursday. I dread getting the results of his test back. I worry that I will not be strong enough to hear the news and that I will just succumb to all this emotion. (again, those of you that know me, know I am not overly emotional, especially in public. I am a fall apart by myself, when it is all over with type of girl) and my husband hugged me hard today and said " you know all you need to do is call, and I will be right there. You know that, right?" (If that is not enough to make me weep, I don't know what is.
Sunday... I needed to go home to see dad. I needed to just put my hands on him, and see for myself. I needed to check on Mom, to make sure she was doing ok. so they had no idea that I was coming with the kids. I thought it a good idea to call when I was half way home, just to avoid any surprises. This is how the conversation went;
Me: "Hey Pops! How are ya?"
P: Eh, not so bad. What are you doing (he almost never asks what am I doing)
M: Well pops, I thought I would have lunch with you and mom
P: Well, come on then.
His voice was so strong. It made my heart sing. Surely the Dr's are wrong, right?
Wrong. I went home to see them both, and assessed the room. he looks tired, worn down, and just, old. He still has the same carismatic doll like aura, but he is fighting and you can see now, he is getting pretty beat up. Mom asked me if I had brought my camera, and I had forgotten it in my rush to get out the door. (see, had I been properly prepared and over thought it all, I would have had it)
Kimberly comes skipping into the living room and asks for a piece of candy. (again, those of you that know me... My own sister calls me the candy nazi)
I said no to her. Dad looked at me and said "why not? she doesn't have enough ass to make a poor man a bowl of soup, she can have candy"
afy=ter lunch I tell him, in a whisper, because I am fighting back this lump that has risen in my throat. Dad has always had what I refer to as "wayne-isms" you know, that phrases that only a certain person can say and it makes total sense coming from them. I didn't know whether to laugh, or burst into tears. I chose to get up and walk into the other room, feigning the search for the third cat they say they have, but I can never find.
It was a lovely day. Lunch with mom, and the kids. Visiting with dad....
and mom, if your reading this, you never cease to amaze me with your strength, and some day, you'll have to tell me how you do it. I love you. Always. Forever.