BlueAngel

Daddy's Gonna Die

As of yet, I haven't really discussed my father much.
Considering what has come about in the past week, I think
it's time for me to talk about it.

Dad and I have never been really close. Well, not since
I was little at least. I see pictures of when I was just a
toddler inside the red wagon we had, and Dad pulling me
around the yard in it. Mom said he'd take me around for
hours at a time. And I remember the "cubby hole." He'd
lie down on the couch on his side and let my sister and I
take turns lying next to him, eating popcorn...

When I got older though (and not much older... probably 9
or 10) we grew way apart. I've never respected him much as
a man, although I have to respect him as my father. I
didn't appreciate the way he treated my family. His
temper, his invalid arguments just for the sake of yelling,
his pure ignorance... When he blew his temper (like the
time he ended up grabbing my sister by the neck), I was the
sane one who calmed it down. But as sane and reasonable as
I was, I built up a resentment...

So here's my father, who I have learned to basically
ignore. In January, we get the news that he has colon
cancer. They do surgery and find that it has spread to his
liver and is inoperable. The first round of chemo almost
kills him. He's in the hospital for 2 weeks. He loses 70
pounds. My formerly gigantic father of 6'8" and 270 pounds
now looks like a skeleton. We change doctors. They do
tests. Last Thursday, we get the results. Bad news: The
cancer has almost completely taken over his liver, and it's
now in his lungs. They are going to try a new form of
chemo which might give him a little extra time or, if he's
not strong enough, kill him. If they don't try, he'll only
live a few months.

When I went to leave for work yesterday, Dad stopped me
and told me, "I want to give you something to remember me
by. It's my most prized possession." He starts bawling as
he hands me his wedding ring. I feel horrible for not
being moved by it. I give him a long hug, but the whole
time I'm thinking, "I'm gonna be late for work." I am
trying so hard to be considerate and caring, but inside, I
don't care. I've detached myself from that man, and I feel
guilty for not feeling sad about his illness... or expected
death.

This morning, Mom told me that my sister and I will need
to go buy black dresses before long, so that we don't have
to once it's happened. Of course, she started crying, and
I had to throw on the caring act again. I guess I'm being
the good daughter by trying to be supportive, but I really
just don't feel much...

I know that this sounds horrible, but in the past two
nights, there have been ambulances rush by the store. I
have some demented wish that it's my Dad they're going
for. I guess I just want it to be over. I graduate in
less than two weeks, but there's no excitement in the house
about that. Not that I'm worried about my moment being
stolen... But I do feel like I'm not part of the family
because the family isn't sharing in on my joy... nor am I
sharing in on their mourning.

Anyway, it's all very odd, and I'm not sure how to
approach it. I just hope I don't end up doing anything
that I'll regret for the rest of my life.