The Day After

I am still numb. If you read my blog you might want to skip it for awhile. It will not be very uplifting I am afraid. I am recording some of my thoughts, for myself, as I enter into this journey of a relationship invaded with cancer and doubt. Not doubt that ultimately all is fine and we are all on a journey of understanding this concept----regardless of the earth happenings----all is well. I believe this. I honestly do, thank goodness. I just wish I could believe it and not feel the pain. Let me think, it must have been about twenty two years ago I was sitting in Gordon's ( our counselor's office ) and telling him my pain was so great and I was so afraid of getting a call telling me my daughter had been found dead that I just wished she was already dead. You see, I knew I could survive the death of it. I had survived the death of her birth father. In fact, for years, I was in a relationship that was destructive.  I had taken that marriage oath though and continuously " till death do us part "resonated in every bone and ear drum in my body. I am a very loyal person and I take my promises and oaths seriously.  Not to mention I did not have the guts to leave. I did not have the self confidence to leave. I did not think I could do it by myself. I was not deserving to be treated better. Did I teach my daughter this? It took his death to MAKE me survive on my own.  Waiting each day to get the call about my daughter's plight, while she was on the streets, was almost more than my heart and soul could take. But guess what, I survived it and I never got the call. She survived it too. But, back to Gordon's office. I can remember vividly him telling me we had to get me to a point that I would be alright with Amber being who she was choosing to be. Well, here I am now facing the fact that once again the pain is there-----and this time the possibility of death for her is much more real than the unknown I faced when she was a teenager. This time it is not just the fear of the dark streets, it is the fear of her immune system not being able to fight those cancer cells. It is anger I feel over choices she has made to always live what seemed to me to be on the edge. It is the anger I feel towards myself for ever marrying her birth father in the first place with his defective genes. It is anger. Yes, it is anger and my anger seems to be directed in every direction I turn . I wish I could turn my anger lose on the cancer cells. It would surely beat them into submission.