My face contorts with confusion since it’s not accustomed to having someone say “Good Job”. Ego has long ago been replaced by expectations. The sagging shoulders are a little more curved because they no longer can carry the weight from other people. It once was easy, now the power of those stresses are too difficult to handle in the previous ways.
Lately my mind hasn’t been a very accurate recorder of life. Too many seizures along with too many attempts to keep the cancer at bay has resulted in holes in the memory chip. Things that I once recalled with ease are concepts that feel just beyond my vision. And then they all come flooding back with the emotional response that follows the confusion.
There are details I don’t care about recalling. Things that it might be a blessing if they remained buried somewhere and left undisturbed. Memory doesn’t work that way though. Eventually my brain inserts a picture at a time it doesn’t belong.
Memory of riding a bike while I’m talking to someone about work.
Holes where my brain momentarily flies back a few years and wonders if the ex will come home.
And the worst part? Flashes of my daughter during times when I can’t stop them flooding back.
Why it picks those times I haven’t been able to understand. The doctors tell me to be patient, rewiring synapses takes time. But then we remind ourselves about the ticking clock in the corner.
So I keep trying to lead a normal life. My family has never been about accolades beyond diplomas hanging on the wall. So I grew up looking for approval rather than “Atta Boy!”. Sports were participated in, not celebrated. The day I received my doctorate, I went to the office afterwards and worked.
It would have been different for my kid. I always told her mother that she was capable of anything. Even when it failed. Having someone doubt themselves was never an option I could live with. Not when some simple words can help wipe that away. All my daughter had to do was come home. Simple concept.
The reality of still waiting for her to come home is not as simple.
I wish there weren’t any holes about her. That swiss cheese effect is disheartening!