It's gonna be ok

it's what we say when there's nothing else to say. when you are in a place thats so dark you just can't justify saying it's all for the best or every cloud has a silver lining. some clouds are just rain, and some things just aren't for the best.

it's what you say to your father when you think about how he lost a father and a brother in two months. it's what you say when the man you've looked up to your whole life feels completely broken and so beyond what the word "hurt" implies.

it's what you say when you are talking to a man that's in so much pain, the only thing he can do is breathe. it's what you say to a man whose body is completely broken, where the doctors come up to you with the look in their eyes where you know exactly what they're going to say. it's what you say to tell him that his family is gonna be alright, that we'll be there for them, and love them hopefully half as much as he did. it's what you say to him when you know he won't last another day.

it's what you say to two six year olds who don't really know what's happening, just that their father isn't there anymore. it's what you say to them when you are the one tucking them in at night and they ask why daddy isn't there to read to them. it's what you say when they cry themselves to sleep, and then you cry yourself to sleep.

it's what you say to a woman who lost the person she loved and shared a life with. it's what you say to her when she watches that man deteriorate past anything you could ever imagine.

it's gonna be ok. it's not ok right now. it's dark, and painful and we don't want to be here.

it says i feel it too. it says im going to hold you until you're done crying, and that there's light somewhere. it says that our family will mourn this loss together. it says there will be a day sometime when i can think about him and not tear up. it says that there are two children who will grow up and remember their father as someone who loved them, and is watching over them.

it's not ok right now. there are tears and pain beyond pain. there is heartache and loss. i look forward to the day when i can look back on this and not feel what i feel now. it's gonna be ok says that that day exists. it's out there somewhere.

so i'm gonna not be ok for a while. but i know that i will be, someday.

rest in peace rick.

Postponing the Inevitable

So I'm pretty sure no one has found this blog yet, and even if they had and liked the first two, they would probably be mildly dissapointed that there hasn't been a post in like ten years.  But hey, just like my journal, my entries are usuall pretty far spaced out and carry a more general trend line for my life rather than a day by day cataloguing of everything I have ever done.  

I think I actually like this way better, or maybe I just want to defend my lack of writing, because I write at intervals where I remember most things, but the unimportant things, to me anyway, kind of fade into the background and I'm left with the stuff that has impacted me the most over the past mildly long period of time.

So here I am again, killing some time putting off what might/probably will end in a fizzle like so many other things in the life of a human.  I guess I write to process, things do become clearer and I evaluate things in a slightly different way when they're in georgia, normal font size, black and white letters, but with the scarcity of the posts I gravitate to a slightly different reason.  I think it's because I'm scared a little.  

I've got alzheimers coming at me from both sides of the family and my prospects for sanity past the age of like 70 don't look amazingly good.  I care about the people around me deeply and I don't think there are many things worse than when someone you love doesn't remember your name.  I'm scared I'm going to hurt the people who care for me the most and while I don't need the minute by minute recounting of my life, I think subconsciously I want some record of who I am and where I've come from.  

Identity is a funny thing.  Many people have many different ways of defining the word but I think everyone has the same basic understanding of what it means.  It's what you mean when you say "I".  One letter representing however many years may be in your life.  All the exeriences, opinions, friends, enemies, ups and downs of the period of time since you came into this world can be summed up in three pen strokes.  I never want to lose that.  If the ink of I starts to fade off the pages of my DNA I'll be in what I consider to be possibly the worst position I could be.  Not in a position to hurt loved ones, but unable to not hurt them.  

So here I am, postponing the inevitable.  May my ink never fade, that I may never be the cause of tears on my loved ones pages.