It’s almost as if I’ve achieved a well-orchestrated balancing act and despite my veteran status it doesn’t take much to knock me off kilter. Yesterday a specialist in Seattle changed the assessment of my father’s lifespan from “months to years” to “weeks to months”. Hearing this today, sitting in the living room with him as he lies on the couch suffering, the worst thing is that sometimes it seems he’s dead already, that the cancer or Death is larger and bigger than the moment we have. I feel double-robbed, robbed now, robbed in the future and soon.
Moments like this are the worst because they take away the most powerful truth we can live in, the moment, something we can agree on regardless of spiritual beliefs or lack thereof – something I tell myself daily and am starting to tell others:
Breathe, you are alive.