. . . like the kids all being sick all week. Kevin is doing much better and went back to school today although he's still got a cough and is congested. All five of the younger ones still had fevers today, though (yes, Finn and Lilah both have it now too).
. . . like feeling lately like so much of my life is behind me rather than in front of me now. It's that mortality thing, I guess. And feeling like my kids are growing up soooo fast, and it hurts. If I close my eyes, I can still see Kevin as a baby and a toddler and a little kid, clear as day. It feels so close that I can almost touch it . . . and yet, it's gone. I open my eyes and look at him and see that he's on the cusp of teendom, and we'll never get those days back, and did I make the most of them? And even Joey suddenly seems so much older and less and less like my little guy anymore. Ahhhh, the passing of time, you just can't stop it.
. . . like being faced with the reality, suddenly, through a friend, that people actually reject babies like Finn at birth. That in certain parts of the world, vast numbers of babies like Finn end up in orphanages, and then, if they're not adopted within a certain time, in institutions, and that's that. Man, this just tears my heart out. I look at Finn and think, my god. How could someone not want him? How could anyone just throw him away like so much garbage?
. . . like feeling the distance that's grown between me and old friends, whether because of a breakdown in the relationship or the mere fact of our lives just traveling down completely different paths. Yeah, that makes me sad.
. . . like reading today about Ethan Zohn, who was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Disease, apparently the most curable form of cancer, and about how he had every reason to be optimistic about his prognosis, and how he underwent the recommended three months of chemo and then discovered that not only had the chemo not worked, but that his cancer had spread. Shit like this hits me like a ton of bricks. All this time, we've focused all of our energy and emotion on just getting through the treatment. Now that we are finally nearing the end (sort of . . .), we have to start thinking about the aftermath. About the fact that Michael still faces a final CT-PET scan to make sure that all the cancer is gone. And I'm suddenly scared. What if . . . what if . . . what if . . .
Sad.
4 comments:
Oh I am sorry you had a sad day today. I hate it when I have those kind of days. Reality can be hard . . . especially the reality of kids growing up so quickly. I feel that same pain almost on a daily basis. I love that I have toddlers around. i couldn't imagine having stopped after only a few children and not having the little kids messes and footsteps still around me.
Sending you a big hug!!
P.S. I'd get the Tamiflu for the little ones that are just starting the H1N1 symptoms. You have to start it within 24-48 hrs of the onset of symptoms for it to work but my neighbor did it for some of her children and they were better a few hours later compared to the week of sickness that her other kids had without the Tamiflu.
Wish I could give you a hug and some chocolate....
Your post so echos my feelings a good deal of the time...sigh...time passing is such an odd thing - too fast with some things, too slow with others...Good luck getting the kiddos well soon and hope YOU don't come down with it! Let's try for lunch SOON altho next week is looking packed - ok so maybe a drink instead! :) L
Tamiflu has a fair bit of psychiatric side effects in children...FYI. I'm not sure it's worth it...
Hang in there!
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