Deeply Ironic

I am finding it deeply ironic right now that I am the one who has it together.


We have a rule , you see.


In times of crisis, only one of us at a time may freak out.


We are waiting for the call on his mother.


Even the doctors know that she will not be leaving ICU.

She has told them all and her husband and son...enough.

She is tired.

Tired of the cancer.

Tired of congestive heart failure.

Tired of a colostomy bag.

Tired of being tired.

Tired of being tired.

In Pain.

Spent.


So like he did for me with my father, I wait with him for the call.


Letting him ramble on, about nothing and everything .


We've spent the better part of 2 years , watching the decline...realizing that indeed , it is what it is.

Swimming upstream against his family who hope against hope that Mother will bounce back...


Baptists do that.


Agnostics do not.

I am at best agnostic.

With Wicca tendencies.


I will take care of him as he has done for me.

He is a good son.


He is a better son than he will ever realize, no matter how often he has been told otherwise.


He is the most level headed, honest person I know..and far better than he will ever realize.

His mother knows his worth.

It's not payback.

It's respect for all the players in the drama we now have to deal with.

We wait for the call.


Blessed Be.

Aunty Pol