I seem to have lost all my coping mechanisms overnight – you would have to see me up close and personal to realize what a hot mess I am, though. My eyes are pretty red (which sets off the green), and I have the sniffles because the Universe thought it would be good for me to have a cold on top of dealing with everything else. I keep tearing up because there is nothing cuter than a chick with runny makeup at work, right? Thing is, I feel like such a crybaby, complaining about all this when my mom is actually the one dying.
It’s just, well, up till she decided to quit chemo, I think deep down I was still hoping for a miracle or something. Some caped crusader would come and kick some cancer ass, maybe. And while logically I knew this wasn’t ever going to happen, the kid in me who isn’t ready to lose her mom was still wishing for a better outcome. And now? Well, not reality is sinking in and my rose colored glasses are suddenly much, much clearer.
And so I’ll just muddle through it all somehow because there is no other option and know that she made the right decision, even if it’s hard to deal with today.
