Eh.

So, I wonder... 

I wonder how morbid it is that I asked my husband what music he'd want played at his funeral.  I've talked with him about whether he'd want a church service.  (In the end, we agreed his mom would really want one, so we decided which church.)  I've explained my reasons for preferring creamation, and made sure that's okay with him.  Some friends think we're at an advantage to have spoken about so many of these things, but really, there are so many more things that need to be talked about.  So difficult bringing these things up, and facing these issues.

This week, my Jessica had a little melt down.  She wants to know how Dad's really doing.  Such a dangerous line to tread...  I don't want to lie to her.  I've always held firmly to that.  But, I also don't want her consumed by worry.  Certainly it would be founded worry, but I don't want it to take over her every thought.  So, I gave her bits of information and she was satisfied with the answer, and didn't press for more. 

But, do you know what really bothered me about my conversation with my daughter?  As we're talking, she's sobbing...  She starts to tell me how it drives her crazy that people ask her how her Dad's doing.  I asked if it was adults or friends, and she said both.  Jess said, "I'll just be walking along, having a good day, when Bam!  Someone comes up to me and asks how Daddy is.  Then that's all I can think about all day!"  As I told Jessica she needs to tell people she'd rather not talk about it, and hopefully they'll stop asking, I thought to myself how people can be COMPLETE idiots!!!!  Now, I guess I can't really blame the friends.  They don't know any better, or probably don't realize what they are doing.  But the adults?  Why the hell would you ask a 12 year old girl how her dad is doing when you know damn well he's dying from cancer????  What on Earth could possibly make you think that's a good idea???  Ugh! 

Another part of our conversation that bothered me was that Jessica says she hates talking to Mrs. Schmidt.  Mrs. Schmidt is the guidance counselor at the middle school.  I asked why she doesn't like it.  Jess gave a couple reasons.  One of them was that Mrs. Schmidt will call her to her office early in the morning.  Jess ends up getting very upset and crying during these sessions.  She says she hates having to walk around the rest of the day having her friends ask what's the matter, and why was she crying.  Makes perfect sense!  I told Jessica to talk to her and explain that and ask if she can come in at the end of the day instead.  Seems like a reasonable request.  Jess also said that Mrs. Schmidt doesn't do anything.  Jess says she pours her heart out.  Apparently all Mrs. Schmidt says in return is, "I can't imagine what you're going through."  I understand why Jess is frustrated!  I would be too!  I asked if she felt that way when she worked with the counselor at the elementary school.  Jess immediately said NO!  I guess the counselor at the elementary school lost her mother to cancer.  She's shared with Jessica about her experiences, and Jessica feels that connection that someone else knows and understands what she's thinking and feeling. 

So, the really frustrating part of this?  Obviously, I can't ask the elementary counselor to work with Jessica.  So, the next best alternative?  Seek out a counselor, right?  The real kicker here is that we don't qualify for this assistance.  How crazy is that?  Last summer I tried to jump through the hoops to check into counseling.  I had my doubts as to what good it would do, but I'm at a point where I needed to try something.  I need all the help I can get!  Anyway, our insurance allowed 3 appointments to establish need.  These appointments were preliminary, part of an employee assistance program...  At the end of them, I'd see if I qualified to work with a counselor.  So, I went to my 3 appointments.  I talked, and talked.  I listened to recommendations.  And in the end?  I was politely told that when my husband actually passes, then I'll qualify for assistance.  Until then, I was on my own.  Nice, right?  :(

So, I need to figure out how to best help Jessica.  I asked her if there was someone she'd rather talk to, or if there was someone she was comfortable.  She said she likes talking to me best.  I'm glad she is comfortable confiding in me, but how the hell am I supposed to help her?  I don't have the answers to deal with this myself!! 

And, when I'm consumed by all this, I wonder if the real killer in all this is the feelings of being in limbo...  We're waiting.  Waiting for the inevitable.  And it's got us all trapped.  I wonder if this would be better if we had closure.  With the closure, we could pick up the pieces and work to move forward with life.  It'd give us something to focus on and work toward.  And in doing so, we'd finally have the support I think we need.  How sick is that?

I don't wish for Forrest to pass.  But, it's my reality.  He will pass from this disease.  Sooner than later.  I watch him struggle.  I watch him in pain.  All the time.  I watch him be sick from treatments.  I've been watching this disease slowly eat away at my husband.  I've watched this disease steal away his vitality, his strength, his energy.  I've watched my children be hurt by this disease.  I've watched the pain and sadness in their eyes and souls, knowing there's nothing I can do to take it away.  I've watched this disease turn my life upside down, taking my family with... and there's nothing I can do to fix it.  When I think of all the damage that has been done to my family, I wonder if we'd be better off with an ending than to continue to drag out the pain.  :( 

Ugh...  I really do hate this...  Every part of it...