On this father's day when I should be barbequing or fishing, I am in my shelter, crying my eyes out.
A family gathering becomes the last time we may see her for father's day. The last time she will see the kids graduate, the last time we'll be together for her birthday, the last mother's day, the last Christmas, the last birthday for the kids, the last whatever on and on until the end for the last two years.
I am so fried. Just totally done. I don't have any more tears. I hate cancer - I hate the dragged-out nature, the never knowing, the day-to-day up and down - better one day, worse the next, last rites then up and driving the car the next day. I really can't take it any more.
My inner empath is completly worn out.