I have, for the last two days, been suffering from an odd, inexplicable illness. Being that the symptoms were vague at best (fatigue, nausea, and loss of appetite), I concluded that a combination of rest and sufficient hydration would be the most appropriate and effective form of treatment.
I awoke late last night to find a message from my sister concerning my mother's health. While the message was cryptic, I feared that I already knew the nature of my mother's condition.
I emerged from my makeshift home, attempting to prolong the normalcy I had created for myself. I wandered between familiar spaces searching for the comfort inherent in such a routine. It was clear soon after it began that the search would bear no fruit.
I stood paralyzed, distanced from the community of which I had become a part. To be alone, surrounded by people is a paradox that only proves to intensify isolation. The life I had carefully cultivated to bring me back to center was being pulled away from me. I closed my eyes, hoping that if I kept them closed long enough that things would somehow change. But such tactics no longer work at my age. I knew this to be an exercise in futility, but putting things in perspective when one's emotions are involved is not an easy task.
Despite my trepidation, I packed the car and drove through the night to be with my family.
After driving 400 miles, my fears were confirmed.
Cancer is a penetrating, disfiguring word. It has the power to level even the most resilient personalities. I had been anticipating this news for quite some time, but I remained blinded by my own selfish pursuits. While I phoned home often, my mother's condition was never discussed explicitly. In my attempt to escape reality, I only managed to curb my sensibilities. Denial is a powerful force whose reach is intensified once it has had the chance to mature into something tangible.
The details of my mother's treatment have yet to be determined, and while my family remains strong, I am finding it difficult to follow suit. At my core, I believe that I possess a weak heart for such things.
Life has a cruel way of reminding us that you can only run away from reality for so long. And so, much like this story began, I am uncertain where these new events will lead me. While my transmission may lack consistency for the time being, it is by no means over. I will certainly do my best to keep interested parties aware of what has become our story. Until then, I hope this communication finds you well.