Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Oh, Hello There. I Remember You!

My Dear Reader,

I really hope that you don't hate me by now. Gosh. Please accept my sincere apologies for May and June. And most of 2010. I've seriously been in a funk.

Let me tell you what's been going on with me lately, and we'll see if that helps you forgive me. A little.

So, this past year-and-a-half have not been my favorite. All I can say is this: make sure you actually have plans after college, people. Don't just assume that you can take a year off and work while you figure things out. Something small might happen, like a global economic meltdown.

Just saying.

Anyway, video editing is great work, but it's not steady. I can go months without having anything to do, and so what happens when no one on Earth is hiring? You end up watching a lot of TV, which is weird for me. I went five years without watching more than an hour or two a week, but when you're practically unemployed, you find ways to fill up your days.

And then those little things take over your life.

And turn your brain to goo.

And make your life so boring that you really can't think of anything interesting to blog about. And you're really frustrated and unhappy, because you feel that you've thrown your life away, somehow.

And then one day, you're sitting at the computer, your goo-brain sloshing from left to right, when you get a call from Padre. And then people start saying things to you. Things like:

"Cecily, your grandmother is in the hospital. We need you to come up here and take care of Grandpa. Be ready in an hour."

"Cecily, we think she has cancer."

"Actually, Cecily, you might have to move in with your grandparents to take care of her when she gets out."

"If she gets out."

And then . . .

"Here, Cecily, have a job."

"Here, Cecily, have two jobs. Five minutes away from Grandma's house."

All in the same day.

I could write about the days I spent next to my grandmother in the hospital, but I'll spare both of us. It was painful, but mostly really boring. What they found out was that she has advanced pancreatic cancer, a kind of cancer that comes out of nowhere and is almost always terminal.

She might have six months to a year to live. Two weeks before she was diagnosed, we had no idea she was even sick. I still can barely process this. My grandma.

And on top of that, my grandpa, her husband, is in the early stages of Alzheimer's. He knows who we are and how to do everything, but he gets lost sometimes. And he can't really be on his own. And he certainly can't take care of his terminal wife. That's my job, now. I'm the one with no commitments, right? Goo brain? The fit was so perfect, I'm tempted to use words like "destiny." We'll see.

On top of that, my aunt and uncle (married to, and own their own businesses next door from, each other) both decided that they need help, so they're sharing me. My aunt owns a cafe, and my uncle owns an insurance agency. Weird combination? Yes. Weird that a Mormon girl is learning how to make coffee? Definitely. And while it's just more crazy to add to the crazy, I think the weirdest part is that I'm okay with it. All of it.

I kind of feel like I was waiting for this moment to happen, where someone would need me for something. Or lots of things.

But, of course, my grandma is still dying from cancer.

So, we'll see how this works out. The only thing I really know is that I think the goo is starting to congeal. I think I might be in for a full recovery, if this doesn't break me.

So, yeah. I'll keep you posted.

Regards, best wishes, and some sense in what the heck is going on,

-Cecily Jane


Meg and Joe said...

In life changing event, like being diagnosed with cancer, there is always a purpose and a good that can come with it. I have actually found that death, while heartbreaking, can actually be a source of spiritual growth for those left behind if they let it. I am happy for you my dear. The truth is though, we always needed (and need) you. We need your laugh, your creativity, your your mad baking skills, your testimony, your gift for teaching, your hard work, and your love. Don't ever think your not needed. That's why we're in these things called families. We can't get through this life without you!

Allison McKeen said...

Cecily, while I'm sad that all of this is happening, I'm very happy that you feel like your time is going to something meaningful. You are doing a lot of good, and we're all grateful that you were around to offer your strength and love.

It's good to have you back on the blogosphere.

Norm Harris said...

The fact is, Cecily, the freedom of your present circumstances is a true Godsend. I just don't know how we would manage all of this without your selfless contribution. Your grandmother will never forget what you are doing for her, and the rest of the family will never forget what you are doing for us.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.