Tip of the Iceberg

I knew this year wasn't going to be easy. My military husband was scheduled to deploy and I'd be doing my first round of long-term, single parenting of our growing toddler. We've been at this for a long time and have done lots of deployments before. I was undaunted. I felt prepared. And, so, arrived the week of deployment.

On Monday, the doctors found a mass on my Dad's pancreas. On Tuesday, my husband left for seven months. On Friday, I was on a plane home to learn my Dad has stage four pancreatic cancer. So I have moved home for the duration of the deployment. I need to be here and my son needs to be here. I worry he won't remember his Papa who loves him so much, who is his buddy. I think that breaks my heart more than anything. We've been here about two months now. It's hard to sort out my feelings most days. I'm hoping that writing here will help me get them organized, or at least recognized.

There is the grief, which hit my with unimaginable force . Since I've been home, I'm more caught up in the day to day managing, and it seems more like background noise. Until the rare moment when I'm alone, like in the grocery store. Or late at night, which explains why I can't sleep. I don't know if keeping it at bay is good or bad. I suppose I'll find out.

There is the anger/frustration/off the chart stress level. My three year old and I are sharing my childhood bedroom. There is only one bathroom in this house. I have left behind my whole life for seven months. I basically don't know anyone in town anymore. I've been out twice since I arrived. Did I mention my son is three? Have you ever lived with a three year old? Frustrating. I'm out of my routine. I'm not getting the exercise I need. My husband is in touch when he is able, but it isn't anything like daily. We've spoken on the phone five times. We mostly email.

There is the medical care. I'm very involved with Dad's care. He's in and out of the hospital. While this is to be expected, it doesn't make it any easier. I've called three ambulances. Dad's been unable to eat and I'm handling his IV feeding and helping to manage his meds. I honestly don't know how anyone does this alone. It is overwhelming. I'm also really trying to help my Mom through all of this. She is nervous by nature and this is terrifying and overwhelming for her. She's been doing so well, but I know she's only just hanging on. I'm trying to find the balance, with both of them, between helping and pushing past my place. Additionally, as much as they are happy to have us here, Dad's exhausted most of the time and my son is very active. He has two speeds: full-bore and asleep. I try to keep him from disturbing them and try not to squash his natural exuberance.

It's all just exhausting. But I wouldn't be anywhere else right now. I'm so lucky that this happened at a time when I could literally pack up and leave home for seven months. If my husband were home, I'd feel guilty having my son away from him. If my son were older, he'd be in school. If I didn't have my son, I'd have a job.

Of course, when my husband comes home we'll go home too. And I have no idea what will happen then. Actually, just thinking about it makes my throat close up. Right now, I can't plan more than about 48 hours in advance. And those plans are never set in stone. For a control freak, this is torture. Part of me feels like I'm doing everything I can and part of me feels like what I'm doing is woefully inadequate. I imagine this will only get worse.