3 a day? Who am I?

I realized today that I will not live forever. OK, I did actually know this before but it really hit me for what it is. I realized that I will have to give this great thing back one day, and no longer enjoy it.

And that makes me incredibly sad. I don't want to live without the grass and sky, squirrels running chaotically across the parking lot and hawks sitting predatory-ily on lamp posts. I want to enjoy the changing of seasons forever. I want to experience sounds, smells, sights, all of it, forever. I don't want to give it back. It isn't fair to give me this extraordinary gift only to expect me to give it back.

I am very conflicted regarding my sister in law's discovery. This SIL and I are not close, as I said in my last post. I think I last saw her about five years ago. My brother and I have never been friends although, at this point, we wish one another well. But I am very upset for them both and cannot imagine what it is like to deal with this. My SIL is facing something like certain death and my brother is dealing with the fact that he may lose his wife.

And tomorrow is the 20th anniversary or my father's death from lung cancer. Take that eldest brother o'mine; how does that feel? Poor bastard.

I left work 30 minutes early but the tears came before I got out of the office. I learned the news around 1:12 p.m. but it took awhile to take hold. I sat in my car gasping and weeping for a moment before I started my 12-mile drive home, during which tears slid down my cheek. I'm not an attractive crier. I turn white and splotchy and just look like I have a nasty, snotty cold when I cry. I like to think sunglasses hide it but there is no hiding the red nose.

I'm upset and scared and sad. I feel like I shouldn't complain or whine about anything because it could be worse. But I also understand that humans will always complain and whine about petty things because it is in our nature to do so. Life is not one, long, extended orgasm. It is also, thank fuck, not a bi-polar roller coaster of extreme joy and extreme trauma. Most of the time we live normal lives with average occurrences. We complain about how long the work day is, how annoying store clerks are, how much traffic sucks, etc. If we always had in mind that it could be worse, that we could have cancer or be raped or killed, we would all live in protective bubbles.

So maybe it is OK for me to bitch about petty things ---- just so long as I keep in mind how lucky I am to have these petty complaints.