There Are No Words...

It's been a long time away from your favorite blog.  Hope I haven't lost too many of you.  It's been a hell of a Winter so far...it can only get better....

So, now that I’ve experienced the full gambit that stage four cancer has to offer (short of actually contracting the disease) I think I have the familiarity to say that it pretty much sucks.  No crap, you’re thinking.  But it’s been a while since I’ve written anything….been able to write anything….and thought it would be nice to start off with something easy.

I contend that no one who has gone through this can say with any honesty that some good can come of it.  There is nothing on the planet good enough to make me think that.  Anyone who tells you that is about to try to sell you something.  But I have learned a thing or two, mostly about myself.

One lesson learned is that when you lose someone close, you almost never react the way you think you will, or think you should.  We all have a sense of ourselves and can normally predict what reaction a given situation will elicit.  However, I was surprised to find that, at least in this instance, the circumstances are so profound that my internal order was (is) in chaos.  Those of you out there that are lucky enough to know me well will agree that I’m not exactly an enigma.  I’m almost proud to be an open book.  I have no need to keep too much hidden and am happy to allow friends access to my true feelings.  Last week has shown me that I can be mysterious even to myself.

There are a myriad of ways we are taught or ways we glean from all manner of influences.  They shape how we respond to nearly anything.  They always seem reasonable because we’ve seen others show us the way.  Then something happens that no imagining can truly prepare you for.  There is a reigning philosophy that with enough time and knowledge you can prepare yourself for anything.  Guess what.  You can’t.  Well, I couldn’t.  And since I consider myself on the far high end of any bell curve, I assume it’s the same for darn near anyone else.

You can tell yourself a thousand times that you know what’s coming.  You know it will be sad.  You know it will hurt.  You know, you know, you know.  You just don’t know.  The psychological wallop is too much to process.  It’s so big you’re left wondering, “Hmm, I guess that’s, that.”  All the while your insides are turned to jelly but your brain is running so far behind the chasm won’t allow what you expect is a normal reaction.

I don’t know how long this will last.  Part of me actually hopes it will linger for a very long time, not wanting to forget.  I suspect the ebb and flow will be pretty tumultuous for some time before settling back to “normal”.

So, dear readers, I apologize if this is a bit more maudlin than you are used to getting from me, but every once in a while the exercise needs doing.  I hope it made sense.  See you again soon.

RALSTON HAS SPOKEN