The flames of hope have been reduced to a flicker.
Thank you to everybody that reached out to me in the past week. Blogger nation really is an extended family if you have been doing this long enough. Camp Skipah has had to temporarily relocate to the land of bourbon, horse racing, and the finest medical care in the area seeking answers as to why cancer can run amok on loved ones with no repercussions. This native Hoosier never thought in a million years he would be leaving cookies and White Russians for Santa Claus in Louisville, Kentucky, but cancer could care less where I rest my weary head on Christmas Eve.
While the mood has been somber, to say the least, Miss Madison and the whole gang of Madisonians have rallied to the cause and have been here to pick each other up when need be. Sibling rivalries and picking on the new guy have now been replaced with hugs and laughter as our Matriarch (unless some sort of miracle happens) is succumbing to cancer. For some reason when the human species was created, they thought a liver was a vital organ, and our matriarch’s has turned into mush thanks to the cancer that has ravaged it.
Quick rant: Why in the hell do I have to pay to park at a “public” hospital? I’ve had times in my life $5.00 meant the difference between eating or putting gas in my vehicle. Thankfully I can afford to park these days, but I can’t imagine not having the money to see a loved in the hospital because I couldn’t afford to park in the garage. Since I’ve never heard of staying in the hospital as a “budget” lodging choice, I’m more than curious where this revenue goes! Is there some secret parking attendant’s slush fund? I didn’t know for Christmas I was going to be asking for University of Louisville Hospital parking garage gift certificates!
I guess yellow paint isn’t included in the parking garage budget.
Losing a friend sucks not matter how the situation plays out, losing a friend that has shown me and my daughter nothing but love and respect since day one is a tough pill to swallow. While initially the signs were trending upward that she could pull through this, it was just cancer’s sick sense of humor that gave us all a glimmer of hope for a “Christmas” miracle before ramming our heads into the wall with the sickening news on Christmas Eve. The silver lining in all this tragedy is that children help take your mind off an otherwise craptastic time in the Skipahsphere.
Sloane got to rejoin the gang and me on Christmas morning and it was off to clock into my other job of “dad” for the time being. Evidently Santa got loaded up on Mrs. Claus’ award-winning apple pie and decided to crash at the Skipah’s Realm corporate headquarters a little longer than he was intending to on Christmas Eve, because when we got home from Louisville for a temporary stopover, it looked like Rudolph left a pile of droppings as tall as a mountain and Santa was redistributing gifts from all the morons that decided mall fighting was a sanctioned sport. A quick glance of ur Christmas tree, and I’m sure it had more Amazon shipping labels than ornaments.
Evidently, Santa deemed I was way too naughty this year to warrant this under the tree. I spent two hours body shaming him under my breath!
Well played ex-wife, well played. I guess she got a deer stand to match her new jacket at her other residence.
Even with her new camo, Sloane didn’t exactly blend in when trying to photo bomb!
Since our kids had been so well behaved this year (bites tongue in half), they got a second dose of elf helpings once we returned to the temporary hacienda for an evening of Christmas fun. Miss Madison and I even received some original artwork from PDK International. I’m living with the coolest girl in the world and didn’t know she had such talented connections also! The highlight of the evening was seeing the Turtle Man unwrap his very own Bachmann Train Set. My inner little boy kicked in immediately and he and I are currently rummaging through eBay like women at a clearance rack at Kohls looking to become the model train barons of the Midwest.
Sloane and I even picked up a new bestie this weekend. She’s three years old and cuter than a newborn puppy. I thought gingers were better known as “fiery red-heads,” but this little bundle of joy just grins ear a to ear anytime one of us plays with her. She has been so fun and helpful this past week she even got to join me and the girls for a walk in the Highland district of Louisville to enjoy the unseasonably warm temps (72 degrees on 12/26…#winning) and enjoy some lunch.
Putting the “high” in Highlands!
My “dates” for the day, thankfully these lovely ladies were a little cheaper than dinner and a movie.
I could go on and on about the past week. There has been plenty of tears, plenty of laughter, and plenty of frustration. What is admiring to me is seeing people that you love and cherish at their weakest moments showing how strong they are when facing the worst possible news. I got the biggest smile when I heard the story of her barking orders out about Christmas gifts from a hospital bed, like a general surmising the battlefield before leading troops into war. Still worried about making sure this and that gets done, while helpless to do it herself. She won’t have to worry anymore, and I hate it!
About it for now, the woman that I would have been proud to call my mother-in-law one day is about to move on to a spread her love in the afterlife. My solemn promise to her is I will always look out for her daughter and the rest of her family as best as I can. I am going to miss getting the occasional needling from her about picking on her beloved Chicago Cubs on my blog. More importantly I am going to miss her.