We Are Canceling A Lot Of Plans

There are a lot of things in the world and my life that I feel lucky and blessed about. For starters, we didn't end up living on East Main Street, for example (which, among other faults, has terrible parking and is a bitch in the winter). I'm not hungry -involuntarily anyway.  I have the support and love of the racing community and I can pretty much go racing whenever I want.  I have close friends who would give me the shirt off their back if they thought I needed it.  I have the best family in the world. 

But a part of it that family is dying. For all of the things I'm lucky about, and blessed with, this is an awful stain on the white-hot amazingness of my life. 

It's becoming increasingly hard to accept that this beautiful ray of sunshine won't be with us forever, and likely not long at all. The love of my father's life, my second mother. I don't feel blessed that she's in pain and not long for our world.  I don't feel blessed that we are suddenly making preparations for something that wasn't supposed to happen for decades to come. I don't feel lucky that as she struggles for breath, dad's heart breaks a little more each moment. 

And I sit here next to her watching her sleep and I hope I never forget this. How hard this is and how amazing she is and I hope the reason why this is happening all becomes so clearly apparent and makes it less hard. 

I don't know what to say other than sitting here in the dark, crying my eyes out silently while I rub her back, has been oddly calming somehow. And I hope none of you ever have to feel this way. Ever. 

I love you, Arlene, and I am so lucky that we have had the years we did-- the beach trips, the concerts, the holidays, the milestones-- the highs were so good that I don't even remember the lows. I've learned a lot from the time we've spent in each other's lives and I wouldn't trade it for anything. And that's one thing I do feel blessed about. 

No regrets. Fight on.