July 10, 2007
life is all waiting.
You’re going through life, enjoying retirement (by going back to the office periodically) and then boom, you feel a bit ill, go to the doctor, and find out there’s a tumor on your pancreas.
Boom. Rick’s dad is sick and is going into the hospital. Life is all waiting. Summer is blooming all around us, my sister from London is in town for a month, my family is together for the first time in years, Rick’s first Chicago art opening is this weekend, and the band is starting to practice again. Lots of excitement and joy.
But life is all waiting. We’ll know something in a couple of days. But what will we know? What do we know?
I try to live life like every day is my last (I think). It’s hard when you get these “life lesson” emails and you already do what you’re supposed to be doing. What happens when you’ve got the correct mindset and then the bad thing happens? I guess there is still pain, but maybe it’s in a better context?
I wish there was something I could do to help. I don’t even know what subjects to talk about. Rick’s family is so much different than my family. When my dad was sick, I didn’t have that removedness. I feel completely unable to help now. Plus, I think I kinda know I’m not good at sick people and hospital situations.
I guess no matter what happens there is always pain. I guess at these times it’s important to focus on the joy too.
These are very intense times.
hi rose
you probably don’t remember me, but then again, perhaps you do… i tired out for the poster kinder many moons ago, just after johnny herndon left to form tortoise. i also happened to grow up with and am very good friends with carl youngdahl. anywho - i just stumbled onto this site after checking in to see what you all are up to - and read your post about rick’s dad. very sorry to hear about his illness. my grandfather died about 18 years ago from pancreatic cancer in a VA hospital in chicago. i would visit him from time to time when i could on my way to and from taking classes at triton college. it was bizarre, difficult, interesting, and educational to watch what he was going thorugh. one day, drugged up on pain medicine, he held my hand and looked me in the eye and said, “you don’t understand.” at first i didn’t exactly know how to take this statement, but then i thought to myself and said to him, “no, i don’t.” the whole hospital, sick thing is weird and hard, but i found that being honest with my thoughts and feelings and communicating honestly with those around me seemed to be a reasonable course of action… even when others aren’t quite as expressive - it seemed to help them explore and open up as well.
best of luck to you, rick, and rick’s father.
take care.
-tim
Dear Rose,
I believe that the best thing you can do for your family is just to be there. An occasional hug is good too.
Tim’s comment is excellent!