Sometimes people will say to me something along the lines of: "You're a really good man for hanging in there." This makes me cringe a little bit. I get the sentiment. But it's not like there was really ever an alternative. "A lot of people would leave in that situation." And those people are total pieces of shit.
We're an entity. A unit. So when cancer happened to one of us, it still happened to us. As far as I'm concerned, anyway. And just like Sara didn't really have a decision about how strong to be, it's not like she could just decide not to have cancer after all, I didn't really have a decision about how strong to be, either. I don't feel strong for surviving. It's just what you do. I don't feel like I deserve credit for it.
Wanted: A pen pal. Seriously. It's the feedback that I like. I've had pen pals my whole life, starting before I could even write and my mom used to have to transcribe my letters (to my Aunt Gloria). My usual pen pals are people that I don't really know too well or else don't see very often, so that I can find it easier to open up. Seriously, write to me. I'll write you back (probably).
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Ahoy
It has been more than a year since my last confession.
So blogs are weird. It's a weird thing to have someone say to you in casual conversation that you should start writing in your blog again. It's like them telling you that they can read your mind. That they know your intimate thoughts. At least some of them. I've always found a certain comfort in a willingness to be vulnerable to people. It's strange, but there's a certain power to be derived from it. As though I'm saying that if I don't hide anything than you have nothing to hold over me. Of course it's not true. I mean, in this medium I am still very much controlling the flow of information to readers. And sometimes stopping it altogether.
I'm not sure why I stopped writing. I suppose it's probably because it stopped being helpful. To me. I mean, it may have been helpful to you, if you care about Sara and wanted to know what was going on and this was a useful little tool for following along, then yeah, I can see its benefit. But for me, relating my experiences to a handful of people over the internet, it just got so tiring. Especially when at the time everything else was so tiring. I had the same conversation over and over and over and over. I think I just got to a point where I didn't want to talk about it anymore.
If, by chance, you are not someone that knows us, I suppose I should fill you in on what you've missed:
I think I left off on Sara's surgery.
The surgery was a success as far as removing the tumor but the tissue that they put in failed to be properly oxygenated and had to be removed three weeks later in another surgery that was fairly heartbreaking at the time.
Recovery was made difficult by a total falling out with a family member. My feelings on this are mixed.
Christmas was nice.
Winter was cold.
Chemotherapy wasn't fun, but from my perspective it went by rather fast.
I bought and sold a sports car.
Some people got married.
Sara's hair is back.
We went to Alaska.
A good friend died.
I think it's this last part that I really want to hit on now. It's been a little over a month, and it doesn't get any easier the more I think about it. It just keeps getting harder. I still feel like I can just send out a text message and we can agree to get together asap. And I can't. And that feels so unnatural. I knew that I loved this person, I think I'm just surprised to keep learning how much. It's funny how you can measure something by its absence. Measure love.
I've always believed that friends are family. At least, I've always wanted to. There's a certain group of people who get labelled friends for life, and that doesn't mean anything unless you absolutely mean it when you say it. The only way to mean it is to do it. To let someone in, just like a family member. To care about them regardless of time or drama or any other bullshit. I can't think of anybody who has ever been in this category that I don't still feel that way about. But sometimes it's difficult. Because sometimes those people maybe didn't mean it as sincerely as I did. And so, over time, it gets harder to find yourself on the same ground as them. But I still care. In this case there was no divide.
I went to the cemetery a couple few days ago. I'm not exactly sure why, because I don't believe in an afterlife as such. So, logically, it doesn't really make sense to hang around cemeteries. But it just felt like the right place to be. I guess it was for me. It was somehow therapeutic. Maybe that's why everyone does it? I don't know. I suppose I'm okay with the mystery.
That's about it. Work is work. I'm trying to come up with a way to purchase my first commercial investment. It's a half million dollar property so it's probably not very likely, but if the biggest thing necessary to closing these deals is desire then maybe I'm not in bad shape, because I've got desire coming out of my ears.
I'll see you soon. Maybe not that soon, but I'll try not to be so long in between next time.
hugs and kisses.
So blogs are weird. It's a weird thing to have someone say to you in casual conversation that you should start writing in your blog again. It's like them telling you that they can read your mind. That they know your intimate thoughts. At least some of them. I've always found a certain comfort in a willingness to be vulnerable to people. It's strange, but there's a certain power to be derived from it. As though I'm saying that if I don't hide anything than you have nothing to hold over me. Of course it's not true. I mean, in this medium I am still very much controlling the flow of information to readers. And sometimes stopping it altogether.
I'm not sure why I stopped writing. I suppose it's probably because it stopped being helpful. To me. I mean, it may have been helpful to you, if you care about Sara and wanted to know what was going on and this was a useful little tool for following along, then yeah, I can see its benefit. But for me, relating my experiences to a handful of people over the internet, it just got so tiring. Especially when at the time everything else was so tiring. I had the same conversation over and over and over and over. I think I just got to a point where I didn't want to talk about it anymore.
If, by chance, you are not someone that knows us, I suppose I should fill you in on what you've missed:
I think I left off on Sara's surgery.
The surgery was a success as far as removing the tumor but the tissue that they put in failed to be properly oxygenated and had to be removed three weeks later in another surgery that was fairly heartbreaking at the time.
Recovery was made difficult by a total falling out with a family member. My feelings on this are mixed.
Christmas was nice.
Winter was cold.
Chemotherapy wasn't fun, but from my perspective it went by rather fast.
I bought and sold a sports car.
Some people got married.
Sara's hair is back.
We went to Alaska.
A good friend died.
I think it's this last part that I really want to hit on now. It's been a little over a month, and it doesn't get any easier the more I think about it. It just keeps getting harder. I still feel like I can just send out a text message and we can agree to get together asap. And I can't. And that feels so unnatural. I knew that I loved this person, I think I'm just surprised to keep learning how much. It's funny how you can measure something by its absence. Measure love.
I've always believed that friends are family. At least, I've always wanted to. There's a certain group of people who get labelled friends for life, and that doesn't mean anything unless you absolutely mean it when you say it. The only way to mean it is to do it. To let someone in, just like a family member. To care about them regardless of time or drama or any other bullshit. I can't think of anybody who has ever been in this category that I don't still feel that way about. But sometimes it's difficult. Because sometimes those people maybe didn't mean it as sincerely as I did. And so, over time, it gets harder to find yourself on the same ground as them. But I still care. In this case there was no divide.
I went to the cemetery a couple few days ago. I'm not exactly sure why, because I don't believe in an afterlife as such. So, logically, it doesn't really make sense to hang around cemeteries. But it just felt like the right place to be. I guess it was for me. It was somehow therapeutic. Maybe that's why everyone does it? I don't know. I suppose I'm okay with the mystery.
That's about it. Work is work. I'm trying to come up with a way to purchase my first commercial investment. It's a half million dollar property so it's probably not very likely, but if the biggest thing necessary to closing these deals is desire then maybe I'm not in bad shape, because I've got desire coming out of my ears.
I'll see you soon. Maybe not that soon, but I'll try not to be so long in between next time.
hugs and kisses.
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