I find myself in a precarious situation at the moment that is difficult to be sure, but probably not uncommon. At the end of one year and the beginning of another, it’s kind of ironic.
I’m a stones throw away from giving birth (with a waddle to prove it) and my father is, how should I say, going downhill quickly. Things can change on a moments notice. Before he was struggling with cancer but dealing rather well with everything that was thrown at him. Now, things are different. As I sit here and feel the tiny kicks to my ribs and bladder, it’s hard not to consider how circular, not to mention temporary, life is.
I think most people when faced with death eventually get around to considering the beginning of life – how that life was lived, how that person touched so many others. Same holds true with birth. I know in my case, with the birth of my first daughter I was definitely aware of the thought of losing her, of her losing me eventually, of how her life would turn out, and ultimately how she would touch the lives of others.
But having it all happen within the same month, quite possibly the same week is startling. As I prepare for all those things one prepares for with the coming of a new baby, I’m faced with the emotional upheaval of the passing of a parent.
Talk about emotional! And, in case you’re wondering, the hormones that are coursing through my body are active participants in all this. Oh, yes indeedy. But that’s a whole other story.
I’m consumed with thoughts of welcoming the new baby in to our family. Of course I am. I’m washing little onesies, organizing newborn diapers just so, readying her co-sleeper with clean, crisp sheets, vacuuming. You know all the things new mothers do, taking care of every last little thing the baby needs…when in reality all baby really needs is a breast (or bottle) and plenty of love and affection.
At the same time, I’m faced with saying goodbye to someone who is, unfortunately, far away. No visits to the hospital, no time spent holding hands. Just the phone and e-mail, though I’m certain all e-mails are going unread.
With the physical obstacle of not being allowed on a plane at 9 1/2 months pregnant, I’m left with the wash, organizing my house, vacuuming…you know, all the things one does when one can’t actually do anything. Funny how it boils down to the little things.
At the risk of venturing off into morbid territory, my point is this – what comes in to this world must go out. The year ends but another one begins the very next day. In the continuous march onward, it’s all about the day by day aspect of it, the minute by minute of how we approach what is thrown at us.
In the absence of medical intervention, one cannot predict when a soul enters this world or when it will leave this world. If doing wash calms the mind enough to deal with the flood that is bearing down, then by all means, I say do the wash, then look up and deal with the rushing water.
photo credit: ScottieT812
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