This is my sixth blog on the subject of dealing with dad's cancer.
The "scandal" years ago involving my dad and his (current) wife is no secret. My dad was married at the time they met. She was married at the time. The two had a secret affair. Easily done when working together. My dad, the scamp he was, even brought his wife and his mistress to one of his political conventions. His (then) wife unaware of the affair between my dad and this other woman who worked with him.
(Sigh) Mormons.
Nevertheless
When dad broke it off with his (then) wife to be with his (now) wife it was very, very ugly to put it mildly. His (then) wife did not go quietly. It's been half a lifetime and she's still kicking and screaming.
(Sigh) Lutherans.
Be that as it may,
With my dad now remarried to his former mistress, the children did not happily Brady Bunch together. Quite the opposite. The blood was bad. A never ending river.
Storm troopers couldn't keep peace among the children. I left. In time, everyone wore themselves out, each side dragged their casualties of war home. The blood stayed bad.
Half a lifetime later,
Now,
Presently,
There are still two women in my dad's life.
Wife and daughter.
She is a devout Catholic who had a very poor upbringing. Poor as in no money. She loves my dad with all her heart. This is all I knew of her. It wasn't until my dad got cancer for the second time I started getting to know her. Half a lifetime later.
Today,
The (now) wife
Is struggling hard keeping my dad alive.
The daughter
Is struggling watching my dad's very slow death.
We two women see my dad in ways the other can only intellectually and compassionately understand, but not feel emotionally.
She wants him to live.
I want his suffering to end.
You could say I don't understand (their) love, she and my dad. For me, only one love exists if I should love at all. Imagine for a moment if the way you love him or her, is the same way you love everyone else fortunate to have your affection. Within seven degrees of separation, imagine how generous, forgiving, and understanding the human race would be towards one another. Imagine the end of war, poverty, and hatred, if all love was equal.
But this is not the case between my dad's wife and I. She loves him in a way I do not understand.
I saw dad last Monday. He weighs 110 pounds, including all the tubes keeping him alive. He lives solely because artificial life, and her power of attorney, make him so.
The daughter asks
What will it take to let him go?
The wife asks
What will it take for you to have faith in a miracle?
As you can observe, there's conflict.
I know she struggles. I know there will be an unspeakable depth of loneliness and disparity for her when my dad dies. I know my dad wants to live. But I wonder if either one of them truly believes he's living?
She loves him. Of that there is not a fiber of doubt. I'm grateful to her for loving my dad all these years. I'm grateful they found each other regardless of the circumstance. I'm grateful to her for caring for him. Anyone who has cared for a person with cancer will tell you, you are consumed every two hours of every day, but for her, more so because dad is an insulin diabetic. I love her. I adore her. And I know she will suffer horribly when he dies.
The wife
Looks at her husband and smiles that he still breathes.
The daughter
Looks at her dad and mourns for he is being forced to live unnaturally.
For her, for my dad's wife, for her well being, I support her. I support her decisions. I support everything she does concerning my dad. But I do not agree with her.
And all we can do is... wait.
And then wait some more.
And just keep waiting.
Life on hold.
In the meantime... I know a guy who will film our next project once all the paperwork has cleared. Both guys are 18+. Two forms ID. I checked. Twice.
It's still an art "project". Not "content".
Apple and the tree, my dear friends.
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