||[Aug. 6th, 2014|03:23 am]
I've said this here and there, but I'd like to make it official - This is no longer a forum for me to entertain others; it's the journal it was intended to be. This is for me. I'll keep it open for others to find a common chord, or to possibly just to find the enjoyment in other people's lives. And if there is joy, laughter, and entertainment, then even better. But in the end, it's my private journal - I just chose to leave the key out for big brother.
The disclaimer: When I post something, it's not always how I feel all the time, or even my mood on any specific day as I walk around the planet earth. It's just how I feel when a keyboard is thrust upon me. So if it's sappy, don't think I got all feministicaly weak. Or if it's Trent Reznorishly depressing that I'm suicidal. Sometimes I just gotta get shit out and if I'm drinking, that outflow goes from a trickle to a fountain, raining on everyone and everything in any proximity of me in an extreme drama that even Ricki Lake doesn't want anything to do with.
So in short, don't be alarmed, it's just Rob. Armed with SoCo.
So for as how I feel today? Damn - I'm over the bad news. Per my previous post, my Dad had his kidney removed due to a cancerous 2lb tumor, and it scared the shit out of me. So badly that I couldn't even admit it to myself until I got drunk and in front of a computer. I actually had to find out about how I really felt by getting an emailed comment about the post I didn't remember writing from two days earlier. Fortunately test results seem positive at this point. So I'll move on.
The other, worse news, comes from last Saturday morning. We had surprised a friend by flying her in to celebrate her bachelorette party here in Dallas since her two bridesmaids recently moved here, and she was considering it herself. But early on her 2nd day we ran across problems. I got a call from Jenn's mom (my wife's mother) just screaming, "Where is Jenn? Uh...her Daddy's dead. Can you find her? I need you to tell her."
Totally unexpected death. I'd already spend all morning nursing her back from a puke-inducing hangover and finally got her back to sleep when I got this call. Her mother and I agreed that she didn't need to hear this over the phone, so this fell upon me. I called Kym over and before I could speak (the horribly huge lump held me back) Kym started freaking out asking me what was wrong. I was standing outside myself at the time and remember trying to tell myself not to faint, because God knows I felt close to doing so. I don't know whether it was my being pale white, blood purple, or just shaking like a leaf that told her something was wrong, but she knew things were bad. Real bad. I told her the news and asked if she wanted to be there when I told Jenn.
She said she needed to be there and we went in. I woke her up and asked Jenn to sit up. I was having serious trouble keeping the poker face. I know because she straight up told me, "You're scaring me".
And I just told her:
I'm so, soooo sorry. But your Dad passed away last night. I'm sooo sorry.
And her reply caught me off guard, "Oh. You scared me for a minute. I though you were going to say was my Grandma."
So far, she hasn't broken. At this point the most I can get out of her is about how guilty she feels for not feeling more.
Right now everything is business.
But eventually the cracks will show (they're starting to), and she will fall, sooo far that I'm not sure I'll know how to catch her.
God knows I want to catch her...but how? It's such a far place to fall from...will it crush us both?
I simply don't know how to save my wife from the fall and hurting herself. But isn't that my role as husband? To protect her and keep her from harm?
I'm getting ready to fucking fail her, and right now the anticipation alone has me upside down. And I swear, I'm not trying to make this about me.
In her delusional state she booked tickets to get back for the memorial - and got the dates wrong. It is, after all, hard to see though wet, hungover eyes. And who could blame her?
PriceLine, that's who.
After I paid for two trips home for my Dad's issue (the first failed, again PriceLine's fault but won't refund) and then the two to get her home (can't get the original incorrectly booked trip reimbursed yet) I'm far more broke than I've been in nearly 20 years. Six flights in two weeks will do that to you.
And I can't help but remember that problems come in threes - and I've only seen two.
Fuck, I'm soooo not prepared for the third. Please fate, please don't let me falter. It's not just about me anymore. I have a family, and I can't let them down.
I'm the man - the head of the household - and I'm scared I'm gonna break.
I have to prevail.
Please let me prevail.