Let the Dysfunction Begin
"Remember when we were little, mom and dad used to go out and we wouldn't want them to and they would say, 'well what do you know about mommies and daddies?' And we would say, 'They always come back.'"
-8 Simple Rules
I used to love 8 simple rules. I still do. I watch that show every time I see that it is on. The dysfunctional family makes me laugh. This quote has stuck with me for years. From the first time I watched that beautifully sad episode where they said goodbye to a father and husband as characters and a great friend as actors. Me being my impressionable 10 year old self realized for the first time through nothing other than a TV show that my mother was not actually invincible. That she may very well collapse in isle three of the grocery store or maybe loose her life to the cancerous blood cells that were coursing through her veins. And though I had known for over half a year the potential of her death, I still lived life as if it could never actually happen. I was ignorant to the facts and my life was still blissful. I was still in childhood.
But that night, I sat in the house separated from my mother because she was too sick to be home and separated from my father because he was too busy spending all his time with my mom or at work. Paul spent a lot of time in his room. He understood the repercussions of my mothers sickness. I was alone in the house, watching 8 Simple Rules when I saw the pain of the family and I realized that it could be me really soon, and my childhood ended, I was forced to grow up just a little bit. My childhood ended because I felt hate for the first time. I hated the leukemia, the strange word I could barely say and couldn't begin to understand. It was from that moment, watching that TV show that the days started to connect and I couldn't live just one day at a time. I couldn't forget the day before and I couldn't stop thinking about the next. I was 10 and I had worries. I didn't worry all the time. I could lose myself in TV or time with my friends or when Paul and I would hang out. I could forget it some times so my childhood wasn't completely gone but I had fears and worries that people at the age of 10 shouldn't have to worry about. Even writing about it now bothers me and what I wrote probably didn't make any sense but when do scared 10 year old kids make sense? For that matter when does a scared 18 year old make sense. Because sometimes I still fear that she will relapse. And then what would I do?
Will, I think out of all the people I know, you have had such a rough life. I think if I were you, I would be done by now. Like, zero belief in a God who just seems to target you with tragedy. I have such high respect for you and the way you deal with what you have been faced with. That being said, I don't know you on a day to day basis. I only know what you write. But you actually admit that you're scared about losing people, whereas I'm too busy pushing people away to even for a second consider how scared I would be if I lost them. You've had people ripped away from you, you've seen people gradually slip away from you, frack I think you have been through the ringer in terms of tragedy and horrendous happenings. I sincerely hope that God gives you a break one day. I hope he gives all of us a break one day. But I feel lame saying all of this because I can't change anything for you. I feel helpless and powerless, but I hope in some small way, these back and forth comments and knowing that somebody is reading and caring about you helps. Even if it's just a little. Because I know that you have done that for me. I guess it's time to return the favor. Anyways. Thinking and praying for you.
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