Chances to get it right

I have always had this naïve idea of what death was. Especially the kind that is preceded by illness. Hollywood portrays it as some thing that actually draws people together around some common cause – that of helping the ill one ease their last days here/ Wow, have I found that to not be true. One, what if you don’t die right away? All these people come together with that one cause, which doesn’t really exist for weeks, months or maybe years.

I know of one person’s parent who had cancer, and was “dying” of it for 7 years! How many times can you say goodbye? Furthermore, as the ill one, how long can you go on being teased by death with the promise of all it brings in the afterlife, only to continue to have to endure earthly pains, joys, struggles, and all that? I, for example was given 2 months to live initially. At that 2-month mark, I had been through a terrible bout with chemo, and actually looked forward to more, if it was going to make me better in the end. Well, it didn’t and wouldn’t. I have no chemo any more, or any other treatment. The goal is to keep me comfortable as long as possible. Hey, I am not in pain. I have, however, experienced some bodily changes that cause me to see and experience myself differently – and he treatment for each of these, has proven to be helpful in alleviating discomfort.

The docs are surprised at how “well” I am doing. My spirits are high – no, I am not awaiting a miracle or some other magical cure. I am not going to Mexico for alternative treatments. I am simply just waiting. I am a goal-oriented person, and tend to see things as having one best answer, and feeling responsible for picking that answer. Had a great discussion tonight with my partner about how life gets us to decisions. Do we make several “perfect” decisions that get us to the right place….or is life really just a serious of millions of smaller decisions that move us all over creation to get us to where we are. In truth, I have always fancied myself to have the “right” answer – eventually. Yet, when I look back on my life, I see a set of random, spontaneous decisions that have given me the richest set of experiences. Not goal oriented at all! And the ones that I have tried to carefully orchestrate have been the most frustrating or forces.

Then there are those things about which I have actively made the little and big decisions to NOT deal with. Those are the most frustrating and disappointing in that they always come back to bite you. They are the lessons that life keeps giving you over and over until you hopefully learn them. I am just not that bright. I both love and hate analogies. Hate them because it forces/allows me to sum up all things into one trite cliché. Like – “ the boiling frog”. You know the one about putting the frog into tepid water then turning up the heat…he doesn’t realize he is cooked until it is too late. Well, are we really as stupid as frogs? Don’t we KNOW that the water is getting hotter? Well, some of us are. I, unfortunately, am not always too bright.

I knew years ago that my father had control issues with me. That is fine as a child. But, not as a 45 year old, otherwise successful, woman. I still let myself get bullied, manipulated, shamed, guilted and yes, controlled, by him. What is up with that? I am not a yeller, but I do walk away from people like that whom I meet in my life. I am smart enough to feel the water getting hot – or better yet, to smell the gas as the stove turns on. Can I blame this on my dad? Sure for the first x years of my life. But when do we start acting like grown ups and get over our upbringing? When are we smart enough to read the signs and actually DO something differently as a result? Shame on me.

I am a strong, smart, successful person in most walks of my life, and plenty independent overall. Yet I cave at the idea of having to stand up to my father (or pick another such person in my life) and actually DO something different that defends my own values and beliefs – not to mention others around me who I value. It is embarrassing and humiliating at the same time. I wouldn’t let a stranger on the street assault my dog, yet I sit and take attacks on those and me closest to me from my father. I keep waiting (45 years not) for that elusive apology from him…. not a back handed one. One, which says I really did/said the wrong thing. I really hurt you and I am sorry. AND he says it to all around me whom he has damaged. I can’t apologize for him to them…it is meaningless, and it isn’t really how he feels. That’s because he doesn’t respect me. Nope, I am his lap dog, which is what he expects me to treat others like – or to be treated.

You know, about 25 years ago, I had a very dear friend. Sure she was eccentric, and rich (both of which I envied at some point. I thought eccentricity was a license to be and act free, and money certainly wouldn’t hurt in that case). I liked hanging out with her. I enjoyed 30,000 acres of ranch outside of Austin. I enjoyed their in-town pool and sprawling old house. Even more importantly, I enjoyed her company, our conversations – and learning that in the midst of all I envied, she had a controlling father, rugged relationships, a strained relationship with her sibling, and alcoholic or 2 in the family. Not that I reveled in those things – but it was a relief to know that I wasn’t just the only one with secrets. At some point in our friendship, my dad told me that I needed to be aware that she just saw me as she would a “pet” – not a friend. How could a person of her wealth and social prominence ever be drawn to me as a friend? Just be careful. So, I was not worthy, I was demeaned, I was shamed, I was belittled. Did I stand up for myself??? Of course not, I took it and actually incorporated that into my belief system all those years ago. I have fought that my whole life since. How sick is that? What’s even worse is that I have incorporated it into how I treat others around me – ones I love.

I guess it all gets back to those dying days. Or my dying days. I am not yet dead, and have a chance to continue living – with all of life’s challenges – until I get a few of these left over lessons right. And I won’t get it right once. I have to get it right many times, over and over, and I will still mess up. I can apologize to all those I have hurt. It may or may not be enough. I can own my part in what has gone wrong – that through my inaction I caused. It may not be enough

I have the “gift”, I have been told, of knowing that I am going to die imminently, but I don’t know how long that will be. Honestly, I felt cheated that I had to live longer than my expected 2 months. After I got over the fact that I had “beat” that deadline, I realized that I had fully geared up to leave. I actually felt punished when I found out that I am getting stronger. No, not cured. I will not be cured. But, I have time left to really tie up some loose ends, to say heartfelt goodbyes, to try to repair some of the behaviors I have resented in myself – those which have unintentionally hurt others around me that I love. Can I do that? We’ll see. It’s totally up to me. No deflecting onto Dad. Will the loved ones accept it from me? We’ll see. Sometimes there is too little too late (ok, yet another trite cliché). I hope this isn’t one of them. I don’t have a lot of time or chances to get it right this time.