Helpless

I don't really enjoy talking about my father's situation. It's not that I mind people asking me how things are going. It's that I have such hate for this cancer because it makes me feel helpless and speechless. His situation and his health are so totally out of my control that if I talk about it, I cry. Since I have to continue to function, I am finding new ways to stay busy all the time so I don't have to deal with it. I have come to grips with the fact that this disease is going to claim his life. I knew a long time ago that he would have to be plagued physically to have a chance to change his relationship with God. In many ways, I see every day he is alive as a chance to do that. However, I have realized that he made up his mind long ago what his relationship with God was going to be and he is not going to budge from that decision. I've heard of midnight hour type revalations and changes of heart, but I don't think that is going to happen here and I am truly depressed over that. Perhaps more troubling to me, though, is that I am also powerless to ease his discomfort. My father is 61 years old and his days consist of getting out of bed (which takes all of his energy), reading the paper, going to radiation, and coming home to take a rest and finish reading the paper. He does little else outside of these activities. It pains me to know that this once vivacious man has been reduced to the shell of a person I now know and that my children's memories of him will be limited to what they witness through the eyes of this disease. I have no words to describe all my emotions, so I prefer not to talk about it. I watched my wedding video a few nights ago and Kiley recognized my Dad on the screen and it made me stop and really notice him as I have never noticed him before. He moved with such energy and he had such a beautiful smile and so much love in his eyes and, of course, pain at the same time most likely due to giving me away. It was good to see him healthy. As of today, it looks like there are more tumors on the back of his neck. We have no idea what this means. They have told us he has 12-18 months to live. I crave to make the most of this time by taking trips and living life to the fullest, but this is not his desire, nor does he possess the energy to do it anyway. So, I see a lot of trips to Chattanooga in our future. I have invested about as much of myself as I can into the situation and I have not had much left over for my children and husband. I think today, I have realized just how helpless I am to do anything but watch the next several months unfold as they will and try to keep a positive attitude. I will run this marathon in October dedicated to him. I think it will be a very tough run mentally. Life is too short to waste it on things that are not true commodities in this life.