Pivotal Moments

Last night at 1:40am my loving brother decided to call me – perfect timing, thanks champ!! I didn’t get to the phone in time in my sleep induced state, and listened to his voicemail instead.  Thankfully it wasn’t anything urgent, he was just up for a chat.  But it got me thinking about the other phone calls I’ve received at that ungodly hour and what they’ve meant.  There have been a couple of them, and 2 in particular have been the most dreaded, and evidently lead to this post.

In life there are pivotal moments that change everything. Some for the better, some for the worse, some without any sudden consequence but the aftermath can be catastrophic.  2010 was one of those years for me.  It was without a doubt the toughest year of my existence.  But I have come out the other side and 5 years on, life continues. 

I wrote the below post on the 27^th January 2010.  Writing has always been one of my coping mechanisms, and on that day it was one of the many ways I tried to deal with the pivotal moment that changed my world. I'm not entirely sure why I've chosen to share this with you today, but an overwhelming sense of needing to has me doing it.... so here you go...

What Do you Do…..?

You sit there, the words exiting the phone and entering your brain. You know you've heard right, but you still question what's been said. Your mind becomes confused, and starts racing in every direction. You answer with standard replies "Ahuh....yep....Ok...". Although you know you have to process the words into a meaning you search for the right one. And then it hits you. Like a car hitting a brick wall. Like the unsuspecting slap to the face that it is. The emotions begin. You can feel it swelling in your throat, you chest tightens, your voice waivers, you blink, waiting for the water works to begin. They don't. You continue with the conversation in a blank state until the words have been said and you know it's time to hang up. You stare at the phone and want to throw it. But don't. The thoughts in your mind still racing. The irrational ones start to slip in. And then the selfish ones appear. This isn't about you, yet you still have your selfish thoughts about how you will be affected.  You look around the tiny room your in. Look at the carpet, at the glass sliding door, checking to see if anyone has seen your reactions so far, and if you look normal. You know as soon as you leave that tiny space it all becomes a reality. You decide to stay in there a while longer, to let it sink in. But what needs to sink in doesn't want to. How can it? And again it doesn't make sense. You want to scream. But don't. You haven't cried. You feel guilty for not crying yet. Why haven't you cried? This isn't the place to cry. These people don't need to see that. You don't want them to see that.  You wait a little longer thinking the emotion will kick in physically soon, hoping that it does to make you feel normal. Don't normal people cry at times like these? Why haven't you cried? The mental fight continues but doesn't get any easier. You know it's time to face the reality. You have to leave the room. You have to get some air. You feel the suffocation of it all begin to choke you. Let me out. I need to be away from here. I need air.  You slowly slide the door open, you wander to your desk, grab you glasses and wallet and head outside for the air you were gasping for. As soon as you feel the breeze on your face it really hits you. The reality is horrible. It hurts so much more than you could ever imagine. The tears start. You're normal. You thank yourself for having enough brains to grab your glasses. They can help shield the tears. They help shield the pain. You look around for the familiar face you know is coming for you. It's there. You feel safe. You let out the pain the instant he touches you. The tears are unstoppable. You go back to thinking your abnormal. The thoughts start to calm themselves. You look into that face you know will be there when it all goes bad and hope it never goes away. You feel relief. You feel guilt. You feel sad. You feel heartbroken. You still feel pain. But it will subside soon....won't it.....?

At least that's what I did today when I found out my mother has 6 months to live.