Bucket lists. I don't know a whole lot about my dad, admittedly, but I do know he's not ready to die. He went to an oncologist yesterday and the verdict is that he has about six months without chemo. If he gets chemo, he will have up to a year and a half. I asked him on Sunday if he's ever wanted to go skydiving. He said he would like to, so Husband and I will be taking my dad and his evil Taco Wife skydiving before he dies. One checked off of all of our bucket lists.
In light of recent events, Husband and I have decided we won't be going to South Carolina this year. It's more important to be around and do things with my dad while he's still able to. It will be Husband and my anniversary gifts to each other and we'll pay for dad and his wife to go so they can save money for medical bills and all the other stuff. He won't be working much longer, so I imagine they'll be coming to stay with us fairly soon.
I have a large bit of resentment that it's come to my dad learning that he's going to die for him to really start giving a crap about anyone besides himself, his taco wife, and his prodigal son (meaning that my brother is the pride and joy of his whole life and the rest of us never mattered in comparison).
I hate this whole mess. I hate that I can't help but be mad at my dad. I hate that everyone is expecting me and my brother to patch things up. I hate that taco wife can't do anything besides turn this whole situation into a pity party for herself. I hate her. I always have. My dad will die and my hatred for her will grow exponentially.
What I do love is that my children hug me when I cry. They don't ask questions. They don't understand and they don't pretend to. They just do as much as they can to help by loving me even when I'm a complete wreck. I love that Husband allows me to invite everyone into the house without asking him. I love that he doesn't say anything when I cry, he just hugs me and waits until I stop. He loves me more when he watches me fall apart. He picks me back up and brushes me off and pushes me to keep moving. I love Grandmother, for being so strong and smart and... human.
I may end up missing one of my younger sisters' wedding this fall. She knows why, and she's understanding enough not to be selfish and upset because of it. I love her.
I love my other sister because she is the one I can say anything to and she gets it. I love her because she's wise beyond her years. I love her because she's in control of her own life and she lets herself be happy and she really is a pretty good role model.
In some strange way, I love my brother even though he's screwed up everything that's been handed to him on a silver platter. Even though he's a sociopath and a thief and a self-centered dick. He is my brother, after all. Things are just easier, for everyone, when we stay away from each other.
I love my aunt. Too many reasons to mention, but she really is the epitome of awesome. I love my uncle, because he loves us, even though he keeps his distance a lot of the time. It's easier for him.
I love that I am alive and healthy.