For completely selfish reasons, I hate what I am going through right now. I hate what is going on and I hate that my dad's health is interfering with my wedding. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that he's in the hospital and I hate that he has Alzheimer's. I hate that he doesn't know I am getting married and I hate that he doesn't know Kevin as well as I want him to. I hate that my dad will never meet Kevin's family. I hate that my family is going through this and I hate that my dad's brain is no longer telling his body what to do. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that I am getting married in 11 days and that I can't be absolutely giddy about it. I hate that every time my phone rings, I am wondering if it's my mom calling to tell me that my dad has died. I hate trying to be positive when all I feel is doom. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that my family may not be able to come to my wedding. I hate that my dad never could. I hate that my mom feels conflicted about everything. I hate that I am finally - FINALLY - able to marry the person I love most in the world and all this shit is happening at the same time. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that I can't be back home with my family while they all sit vigil in my dad's hospital room. I hate that the surgery his doctors could easily perform on him if he was just 35 can't happen because he's 75. I hate that the only solution is to just wait and see what happens when I need to plan everything right now. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that I don't know whether to tell the caterer that there will be 10 extra people. I hate that Kevin spent time creating place cards that may need to be recreated. I hate that I don't know if there will even be a wedding or if our little trip afterwards will even happen. I hate that I don't know if I should cancel my family's hotel rooms or sacrifice a few hundred dollars. I hate that I want my family here regardless of my dad's health. I hate that I am feeling sorry for myself when my mom is going to eventually lose the man she's loved for almost 60 years.
I hate that my dad is dying. I hate that my dad is dying. I hate that it seems there is nothing anyone can do about it. I hate that I can't help him. I hate that I can't tell him I love him one more time and he'll hear it, let alone understand it, let alone remember it. I hate that for my whole life he was the symbol of strength, sacrifice and dedication and now he doesn't even have enough energy to walk. I hate that I want him to fight for life, but at the same time I just want his pain and this saga to end. I hate that, at the same time, I am wishing for both life and death.
And I hate, hate, hate that I feel this way.
I hate that he's in the hospital and I hate that he has Alzheimer's. I hate that he doesn't know I am getting married and I hate that he doesn't know Kevin as well as I want him to. I hate that my dad will never meet Kevin's family. I hate that my family is going through this and I hate that my dad's brain is no longer telling his body what to do. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that I am getting married in 11 days and that I can't be absolutely giddy about it. I hate that every time my phone rings, I am wondering if it's my mom calling to tell me that my dad has died. I hate trying to be positive when all I feel is doom. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that my family may not be able to come to my wedding. I hate that my dad never could. I hate that my mom feels conflicted about everything. I hate that I am finally - FINALLY - able to marry the person I love most in the world and all this shit is happening at the same time. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that I can't be back home with my family while they all sit vigil in my dad's hospital room. I hate that the surgery his doctors could easily perform on him if he was just 35 can't happen because he's 75. I hate that the only solution is to just wait and see what happens when I need to plan everything right now. And I hate that I feel this way.
I hate that I don't know whether to tell the caterer that there will be 10 extra people. I hate that Kevin spent time creating place cards that may need to be recreated. I hate that I don't know if there will even be a wedding or if our little trip afterwards will even happen. I hate that I don't know if I should cancel my family's hotel rooms or sacrifice a few hundred dollars. I hate that I want my family here regardless of my dad's health. I hate that I am feeling sorry for myself when my mom is going to eventually lose the man she's loved for almost 60 years.
I hate that my dad is dying. I hate that my dad is dying. I hate that it seems there is nothing anyone can do about it. I hate that I can't help him. I hate that I can't tell him I love him one more time and he'll hear it, let alone understand it, let alone remember it. I hate that for my whole life he was the symbol of strength, sacrifice and dedication and now he doesn't even have enough energy to walk. I hate that I want him to fight for life, but at the same time I just want his pain and this saga to end. I hate that, at the same time, I am wishing for both life and death.
And I hate, hate, hate that I feel this way.
