From The Shadows...

There have been nights of no sleep. Of wind on the roof and a dog pacing our bed. There have been days of droopy eyes and the lament of coffee long gone. There has been some laughter. Mostly, there has been this numb creeping of indifference.

My mother has been diagnosed with stage three cancer. I made the mistake of researching it online. I refuse to believe that she is going to be a statistic. There is no room for failure.

I flew to Ottawa at the end of November to settle her in for her first treatment, Christmas shopping, decorating, forced rally and tears. I returned to my own house, my own demands, exhausted. Someone said that Christmas was a whore who comes in all her finery but we don't see her slip out the back door... and I feel the coldness of her exit. This is usually my favorite time of year. I love the family of it, games and port by the tree. I love the careful preparation of dinner and wrapping... the meal planning and the execution of surprise. But all of this was swallowed by the creeping numbness and now it's after Christmas and I don't want to let go.

This too shall pass.

G.