As It Does, Life Takes Over

I have missed posting here dearly. But, alas, life happens. And sometimes the things in life aren't pretty. Or, as writers see it, aren't worth writing about. That being said, writers sometimes confuse worth with inability to put a current struggle into words. This was my case. And as exhaustion took over, I lost sight of some very important facets to my current status and well-being... and well, things I love.

Like writing this blog. 

I am not immune to being taken over by outside, unpleasant forces. Having a parent in a hospital is always difficult. Having a parent who you haven't always gotten along with can be a more difficult en devour all together. It has been a week of emotions that refused to stay still, stay in one place at one time. Like others in my bloodline we worry of outcomes, tests, results. Surgeries. A world, your world, your small little world can go through so many changes in such a short period of time that your brain tries to fill in the blanks. Thinking back, "what could I have done?". Thinking forward, "What could happen?". There isn't a shame to this, we are humans after all. Our brains struggle to be in what a friend of mine has called "Isness". 

What is happening.
What can happen.
What we can do. 
What I can do.

Isness. 

Hospitals aren't usually a place where you're filled with grand ideas or are graced with poetic integrity. Rather it, and less "romantically", it is a place where people fuss. Pace the waxed floors, apply hand sanitizer 12 times without noticing, adjust their family members pillows, sit and wait. 

And wait.
And wait.

And
Wait. 

I had no brilliant ideas there, nothing worth noting. Just that the smell of hospitals never change or that the lights or too bright when a lot of lights are going out. And then I wasn't able to go to hospital anymore. As that tends to happen when your doctor finds out, and you're on immune suppressing drugs. And that has lead me to being home alone for grand amounts of time trying so badly to write about this. Make it mean something. Give it a life.

I couldn't.

I avoided "isness" and stayed in my own head where nothing could get in or out. I was angry at the world, dramatically stamping when I could. My father has had one surgery that has lead to a hemodialysis and that has lead to a second surgery. No matter our past or my frustrations with him and his sometimes (always) lazy approach to his treatment, he is still unwell. He is still my dad. I am still his child. And being alone with these thoughts could either be dangerous or soothing but there is no in-between. 

It all, simply, just is.

I have no advice to share. I don't have any clever word plays up my sleeve. All I can say is when life happens it's alright to be afraid and hide away. People always want other people present, but it's never that easy. Come out when you're ready. The world hasn't stopped turning, so sadly you'll have some homework. But you'll catch up. 

As for me I will be here. There. Gone. And back again. 

And that's okay.

- Spencer.
p.s. normal posting shall resume shortly.