Musings

I'm worn out.

Things have been eating away at me for a while now, and I just can't believe I haven't been proactive about cutting all of those things off of me. I've got some serious problems with my only Grandparents, class work of course, and just general stress.

My Dad has high blood pressure, so he can get pretty damn stressed too, and it's certainly not healthy. I know from experience. I can recall one time that I had come home from a sleepover with my friend years ago and I entered my house, asking where everyone was. My Sister came running down, looking at me with a concerned look in her eye.

"Tata is in the Hospital," She said.

"What- What do you mean?" I was frantic, and I immediately began bursting in tears. For all I know, at my young age, my Dad could have been dying, suffered from a serious accident, or any other cause for hospitalizing someone.

As the tears ran down my face, my Sister hugged me immediately, comforting me.

"He's going to be okay, it's nothing too serious." The stress inside didn't release one bit, but I became rational again. I smeared my tears across my face with my sweatshirt. It was that time of the year where you would where the semi-warm clothes over your T-Shirt and a pair of jeans, usually nothing more. When the snow is nearly done melting, leaving patches here and there and slush everywhere else. A fairly ugly time of the year, gloomy.

As things winded down, I became no less worried. We visited my Dad in the hospital, where we could finally see him. He looked relaxed, and had a wide smile strewn across his face. I couldn't stand seeing him connected to monitoring machines, data-collectors, and IV bags, as it reminded me of my Mom when she was going through Cancer. It wasn't easy for me to cope, and I jumped to my Dad, immediately hugging and him and clenching the sides of his chest. I never believed I would let go, hell... They would have had to pry me off if my Dad didn't tell me to sit down. He's always assertive and respectful, no matter what condition. So, naturally I'll respect him because it was my only job as a kid.

We sat down, and my mind raced with my eyes as I recollected myself and swung my head around the room. I must admit, I did feel a warming feeling seeing my Dad, though it was sort of a mixed-blessing. On one hand I could see my Dad was going to be okay and it was only a minor issue, but on the hand I can see him connected to all of these machines that dying people are connected to, like my Mom did.

She battled Breast Cancer for many years until she finally couldn't take it anymore. She died in 2003, on February 23. We saw her every single day she was in the hospital, though she was able to spend time home when she was healthy. She had been healthy for a long period of her time with cancer, but when she was sick it was devastating. I don't remember a whole from my Mom because she died when I was 7, but I have a pretty good comprehension of her. I only wish I knew more, but I live with the experiences I had with her.

On a lighter and unrelated note; I may be purchasing my own domain name for my blog. This way, I can sure all of my artwork, pictures, writing, and my journal entries. Stay in touch!