It Has To Be Said

I have covered this territory before, but now seems like a good time to reiterate. Forcefully.

There are two people in my life who have demonstrated - vividly - what it takes to be a survivor. Under the harshest of conditions.

My wife had a mastectomy in September of 2017. She had a tumor removed from her brain in November of 2017. We are talking two months between mastectomy and brain tumor removal. She received the diagnoses for both within a week of each other. Her life was radically altered in a fucking heartbeat.

The surgery to remove the brain tumor left one side of her face sagging like that of a stroke victim. Affecting her speech, and eating. She had surgery to repair her sagging face in February of 2019 that spanned two days because a lot went wrong.

That surgery repaired nothing.

Through all of this she has remained strong and positive. Unbelievably so. Never giving up, never pulling the "woe is me" shit that I always pull. She hates the condition of her face but she deals with it and keeps a positive attitude towards life. A strong and positive attitude.

My brother's only son died of a heroin overdose in December of 2014. His only son, his only child. He was broken but he dealt with it. He got therapy, he stayed involved with all of the activities that make him who he is, he continued to work. It was so difficult for him for so long but he never gave up, he never did the "woe is me" dance. He just kept on dealing with all of it. And he emerged strong and successful with a new life and a new wife. Unbelievable. Strong and positive.

In addition, I have four other family members whose children have died. Four. And all of them made it through.

Six family members who have walked through hell and survived it.

Given the fact that I have witnessed all this misery suffered by my family, and that I have witnessed amazing strength from all of them as they dealt with it, I have nothing to complain about. Ever.

Still, I whine because my part-time job prevents me from watching the French Open. I whine about my knee. I whine about being fat. I whine about not being retired.

This is the weakness I have spoken of previously. It's embarrassing. It is an insult to my family.

Strong and positive are two words that no person has ever used to describe me.

I have been writing in this blog for 11 years. There is a great deal of whining in there. Think about that. 11 fucking years of openly whining in front of family members and friends who read my words. With no shame.

As if whining is legitimate, as if my life is so fucking hard that I have to cry about it in front of family and friends. With no lessons learned, no progress, no change, no forward movement. The same fucking complaints over and over again.

Like an insane person.

What do I do?

I change. 

If I do not change I will self-loathe myself into the grave. Which would be a waste of my life, and the ultimate insult to my family who have shown such strength.

After Scrooge's perspective was altered by his three ghost friends, and after he reconciled with his nephew Fred, and Fred's wife Janet, Janet tells Scrooge that he has made them both very happy.

Scrooge quietly replies "Have I?", as if he's never been told that before.

This is how I want to feel when my family tells me that I have changed, that I have learned how to be strong and how to make myself happy. And that is what I want to hear from them, that I have made them very happy. And I would reply "Have I?"

Scrooge goes on to say one more thing, which is the only thing I can say today:

"God forgive me for the time I've wasted."