My dad is dying
A while ago, I posted about my dad. He's just received a terminal diagnosis, and I'm finding it very hard to deal with that. Even though I was preparing myself for this news, even though when I left to come back home I knew, in the deepest corners of my heart, that he was not going to get well on this earth, I am in shock.I want to withdraw from everything and everyone (literally, not metaphorically as in I don't want to live)but the thing is I can't. My husband and my children need me to function. So I go on, doing the things I'm supposed to do, and looking after my family. But in quiet times, when it all gets to be a bit much, I grieve. Physically, we're all well. Charlotte's teeth are almost through, and she's back to being happy again. The little one in my womb is, at the moment, floating around giving me occasional kicks and punches. Lachlan is at work. I am doing what needs to be done. Laundry, toilets, nappies, meals, and all the rest of it. Cheer