The Big Picture

 My kids? They LOVE their dad.  Like really really love love him.

All four of them. Even the teenagers who usually dislike their

parents, THEY love their dad too. 

Who can blame them?

I think if they secretly had to pick the parent who was

dying from terminal cancer, it would be me.

I'm not offended, that's who I would pick too.

Kyle is more fun, he's nicer, all the teenage friends of

the kids love him.  He cleans better, is more organized,

and makes good dinners. He has a college degree, he had a 

job that could have supported the family ...and well, 

everyone just needs their dad.  

It would have worked out a lot easier if it

were me.  But it's not.

So they're stuck with me in the end, as sad as that is.

I will learn to be more fun.

Or something.

People always use the expression "Look at the big picture"

in all of this and you know, while that's a nice expression

and everything, I want to give you just ONE TINY snapshot

into our lives as to what the "big picture" looks like.

Kyle is sick.

Someday Kyle will die.

I will be left without a husband.

My four kids (remember those kids who ADORE their dad?)

they will be left without a dad for the REST OF THEIR lives.

Ya, that kinda sucks.

I know we like to throw around the afterlife, and the

whole "families are forever" thing...and while in theory

that is pretty hunky dory, in THIS LIFE, it doesn't really

fix anything.

NOW think back on the last 40 years of your life, if you're

old enough to remember that far back.  Think about HOW LONG

40 years has taken to go by.  Think about how many things

have happened in 40 years.  Think about all the holidays,

life events, and birthday parties that have happened.

Then think some more about how long 40 years is.

Then REALLY think about it some more.

And one more time for good measure.

It's a lifetime, literally.

It's a long long long time to be without a person that

is the rock of your life.  

I would imagine people go into a free fall when it all

comes apart, not sure where to grab, who to hang on to,

and how to make sense of it all.

This is where I don't want someone to tell me to "look

at the big picture".

MY big picture?

MY KIDS big picture?

It's for the next 40 years without a dad.

(I chose that number randomly, considering he's 46 now

and his grandparents all lived and ARE still living into

their 90's--I figured that's a good number to have expected

from Kyle,  had he NOT gotten cholangio-freakin-carcinoma).

Does this mean we will be sad every day for 40 years?

I sure as hell hope not.

I imagine that the pain ebbs, and flows, like the waves

of the ocean....in and out....gently washing over our

hearts after the deepest and hardest sting goes away.

But then there will be days like this....

And as you can see, I don't even need words to explain

the rawness of pain and emotion our hearts feel for 

this kind of thing in the photos that follow.

Thursday night was my nieces wedding.

Grace was a bridesmaid.

Everyone looked lovely.

It was a beautiful night.

Grace breathed in my ear "weddings are hard".

I can see that, she's 17, it makes her heart ache

knowing that HER future wedding will be without the

very first love of her life, her dad.

Grace and Kyle?  They have a special bond that only

dad's have with their daughters.  It is apparent just

watching them with each other.  She adores him

and he adores her.  

As it should be.  

As it should be.

As the night went on, Grace's normal exuberant, radiant,

glowing personality seemed to dim --just a little.

I kept asking her what was wrong.

And then they had the father of the bride dance with

his daughter....

And then they asked all the bridesmaids to go dance

with their fathers.

And Grace SAW the "big picture" in that moment.

And I watched Grace fall into her father in a puddle of 

tears.   And I watched them cling to each other knowing

there would never be a "father of the bride" dance at

Grace's reception and I willed myself to stem the tide

of tears leaking from my eyes.   And my heart broke

into 1 million pieces with my daughters heart, and my 

husbands heart.

And I cried.

And I thought of the "big picture" again with cancer.

And it hurt like hell, and I felt the claws of unease

and discomfort reach in and wrap around my heart and 

more tears slipped down my face at the thought of all

the things, ALL THE THINGS, that would be missed in the

next 40 years.

Just so you know?

The "big picture" sucks.  

And that's what I've got for today.

Picture story follows below.

No need for more words.