The Widening Gyre

Tomorrow is chemo day.  Cursed chemo day. It's an early appt., we should be done by the afternoon.  Numbers will be telling. Jenny is weaker, but refuses to slow down. Who can blame her. Today, an installer for invisible fence arrived at 8:10.  I roused her at 7:40, and she was up and with the installer for a site inspection and initial dog training that lasted until 10, then went and built tiny houses, got home around 5:00 p.m. and fell asleep. We had planned to go to Costco at 5:00.  I didn't finish work until almost 6:00, and Jenny got up and off to Costco we went.  Then, we get home, eat dinner, and a friend arrives and off she goes. 

Turning and turning in the
widening gyre -- Victor Pasmore.

I am sitting here listening to Norm MacDonald clips.  The house is so different without Leiney.  I called her tonight to say hello. I miss her, and wanted to wish her luck on her first day of classes, which is tomorrow.  So, she answered the phone, it was near 8, and she asked, "What's up, dad?"  I told her I was just calling because I hadn't spoken to her today, and her response, "I'm working, and then I'm going out after."  That was about the gist of it. 

Everything has been off-kilter for so long, and it isn't going to go back to any semblance of normalcy. I live in the world of the crooked man, everything is askew.   This isn't a pitiable state.  Having no sea legs wouldn't be such a pain-in-the-ass if my knees weren't so creaky.  

A crooked world, a woozy walk, amidst a world that has lost all color.  No joy in work. No joy at home.  No joy in being awake. Sleep comes rushing at me these days like the floor crashing into your head after a 3-day drunk. You try and fight it, but the floor keeps coming, and no struggle is going to change that.  I can feel the floor rising, but don't know when it will hit me.

Jenny befriended a woman with PDAC recently, who was diagnosed August 5. Jenny wrote about it on her Facebook page yesterday.  I heard call after call she had with this woman, shepherding her through a death sentence.  She offered the woman support, shared her insights and gave the woman hope.  She died yesterday, Jenny's new friend.  Jenny, understandably, was devastated.  It is terrifying. She cried for her new friend and for herself. It scared me too.  A message from the woman's husband, sent while she was dying is both heart wrenching and a testament to the grace Jenny can show people.  I hate this nightmare.




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