Letter to 2018
2018. Boy you sure knew how to test my patience and resilience. What you put me through I would never have placed on my worst enemy, assuming I had one. First off no one wants to move, it’s boring, annoying and depending on the time of year it’s hot, you get uncomfortable gooch sweat and don’t want to be outside. Or it’s could be cold you get frostbite and still don’t want to be outside the same. Either way your patience is tested.
The year before you gave me bad news that we brought with us, “I have stage IV pancreatic cancer….”. Those words have never rung so vividly in my head, like a bullet ricocheting from temple to temple. No. That was all I could muster to say after seven min of silence. Next we ended up with you, just the beginning part of you but you none the less. Those ever present lingering words hurt myself and all of those around me for months tormenting my thoughts, tormenting my dreams, and tormenting my desire to be okay.
During your time I heard the next hardest thing in my life, “I’m no longer taking chemo…”. Bruv, you just took the strongest person in this world (besides my wife my, sisters, my grandmother) and twiddled her down to “I’m no longer taking chemo”. No easier sleeps, no more drinking, no more eating, no big movements, no grand, goofy smiles, no more sparkle in the eyes of the one who gave birth to me. Just emptiness and pain. Unfortunately, the only thing I saw this year was emptiness and pain over and over and over again.
April 13th, 2018
“Mom I’m on my way Ill be there in 10 hrs!”
“Great baby boy I can’t wait to see you.”
April 16th, 2018
“Mom I got some watermelon, want to try to eat that?”
“Hell yeah!”
Grandmother- “She ate the hell out of that!”
April 20th, 2018
“Grandmother I can’t find my mother anymore, it’s not her … is it?”
“No sweetheart she has not been the same for a while.”
April 24th,2018
“Baby Boy… I love you!”
“I love you more Momma bear!”
“Well that can’t be right!”
April 27th, 2018
10 mins after saying goodnight to momma bear.
Rrrrrreeeeeaaaaakkkkk (trembling southern soft voice) “Sweetheart?”
“Yeah grandmother?”
“I think your mom has passed…”
…
…
Running downstairs
…
…
Blood curdling screams erupt and echo off the walls of the eerily quiet room.
…
…
Momma Bear was gone
…
…
…
“Well that can’t be right”. 2018, that was the last thing you let my mom say to me and I will be forever grateful for that blessing.
2018. You really have put me through the ringer this year, mom’s death, my accident, my wife’s accident, my grandmothers totaled vehicle, my grandfathers open heart surgery, my father in laws cancer surgery and uphill recovery battle. Not to mention the little things like my Ps4 breaking, the little nuisances of planning a wedding and honey moon, work branch changes, shift and scheduling changes, learning to manage all of this on top of my first year of living and paying bills on my own.
I know I will grow from this but, bruv, couldn’t we have spread it out a little bit?
Here’s to hoping for a Happy New Year!
Cheers,
Signed Him
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