Month 01, Day 02, Year of Diagnosis.

I worried I’d burst into tears at moments I’d wished people would ignore it.

I teared up a lot today, in moments in between thoughts. In between looking at my Today List and seeing what was the next step, in those instants between the end of one thought and the start of another. Have to pay that passage’s toll. I just didn’t want to dwell on what’s in the wings, waiting. Ironically, there’s going to be time for that. It’s not the kind of time I’m after. I have little say in that, much like tears shed today.

Tonight we saw an art performance, made an outing of it complete with going to dinner. Perhaps it was serendipity that no one else could come with us. What to do right now is still up in the air. Until Helen gets the biopsy and its results, there’s only so much talking about the inevitable that can happen.

My mind eventually goes forward, brushing up against what I know will come. It’s how I’m built. And even though a few dances with Death have imparted that no amount of looking forward, of ‘bracing,’ will hold up to reality, I feel pulled toward it nonetheless. I don’t know what to make of the exercise. Perhaps I just want to be doing something, chip away at it, so I’m not buried under it all at once. This time, I worry about feeling like I’m keeping up my end of the accord with Bea. This assumes Bea would want to continue to call this home though. Because I know this will hit hard and hurt like hell – I can see it being too much. I have a glimpse into the hours before I was told close family died – about wanting to let me have as much time as was left in my childhood until it couldn’t be kept any longer. Bea deserves to have that too, for as long as possible. Deep down, it’s not a lie I’d ever call ‘good,’ regardless of its intentions.

Helen’s waiting to tell Carl. Largely due to the bandwidth required and their honest not wanting to deal with it right now. I know I need to talk with people at work, but today wasn’t that day. I still try not to feel. It has a habit of rearing its head when I’m not in the comfort of my solitude.

Tonight’s outing was much needed. It was wonderful. For a few hours, there was no terminal, no fatal, no time running out. And it’s important, because both of us are still drifting in a listless ocean of unknown. A place neither of us do well in long term.

Helen has some piece of mind – I’ve told them they only need to name the week, and I’ll take time off. They want to make sure nothing is left out when it comes to settling their affairs. It may seem like a morbid or unusual guiding light. But it’s enough for right now. That feels right.

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