Oh, Not-so-Sweet Interruptions

by Lisa Donovan

Earlier this morning, I had written a blog that seemed important at the time and was, what I thought, to be a pretty accurate reflection of my role as a mother and how difficult it is since most girls my age don’t have kids anymore… blah blah bleh… Thanks to the ineffectual powers of technology that be, I lost everything I wrote because of a lame internet connection in our new house.  At the time it seemed important and I was angry.  Five hours have passed, my daughter is down for her second nap and the world has changed with just one phone call.  My dad is sick and in the hospital - doubled over in pain.  They are going to have to operate soon to take a cyst that we knew nothing about off of one of his kidneys.  His stomach has swollen to look like he is seven months pregnant and he is in so much pain that he can’t speak.  We have no idea what is going on - we just have to wait until post-surgery to get a better understanding of what is wrong with him.
Parents never get old in our eyes - at least mine hadn’t yet.  My parents are in their early fifties and they still look forty.  My dad is a marathon runner.  He has always been active and healthy and energetic.  This is the first time I have been faced with the fact that, one day (hopefully, very far away), I will have to face him being old or sick or gone.  I have never really thought about it until today.  My grandmother died when I was ten and, though I saw what it did to my mom, I never fully understood what a god awfully empty feeling that must be to lose a parent.  Thank goodness they aren’t gone - nonetheless, since my mom called and told me the news I haven’t been able to shake that lost feeling - that feeling like when you’re five years old and lost in the supermarket.. it’s like I wandered away from him in the bean and pasta aisle and he has already made his way to the frozen food section and I am panicked and I miss him and I can’t stop thinking about how I will never be able to make it without him….. And there will be no customer service desk to call him over the intercom.. there will be no kind, old lady to ask me if I am lost… How do people do this?  He’s not supposed to get sick.  Ever.

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This entry was posted on Monday, June 26th, 2006 at 2:13 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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