I spend an awful amount of time wondering what my future will be like, what it will entail. I wonder what challenges and victories lie ahead. I Wonder what, of all I imagine, will actually turn into reality.
One thing I obviously cannot properly forecast is my younger sister’s life. By November, she should be in remission. Chemotherapy, finally over, after two and a half years of hell. This is something I look forward to only a fraction. What I fear about remission is relapse. Relapse sort of equals condemnation in my family, for if she does, there won’t be very much the hospital will be able to do to save my sister’s life. Relapse is what I fear the most, and is possibly one of my greatest causes of anxiety (when I feel anxious – which is not that often). Sometimes I imagine how I would learn the news: a phone call from my mother, followed by a rush of tears, an urge to scream, a desire to disappear and close off from everything and everybody. Or maybe it will be in the comfort of our own home, when the physical pain of the disease cause my sister to scream tirelessly, endlessly: the cancer’s back.
When will that happen, if it will happen? I dare not think within the end of the year. Give us a little Holiday, we’ve endured so much. If she is to relapse, please – give her a few more years.
I imagine my life without my younger sister. It’s a bit of a weird thought. It sort of gives me the creeps. Will I visit her grave often? Will I cry a lot? I cannot tell. All I know is that I’ll survive, I’ll get through it. Because when it comes down to it, we can get through anything. It’s just gonna be a bummer, a life without her. The “relief” of having her free of pain, and us free of constraints, anxiety, stress, worry, will not equal the sadness and emptiness of the loss. The missing.
I don’t know. I think about this sometimes. There probably isn’t much point to thinking about it but I can’t help it.
Another thing that makes me sad is my parents – my mother especially. If her diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease is correct, she seems to be getting worse. Her movements are so slow. At first I thought she was trying to take her time but it happens all the time, that now the slowness is just her normal speed. What it looks like to me is that she is trying to be extremely careful of every action she does, but in fact, it is simply because she cannot act with any more speed. For example, she takes quite a while helping herself to food. It is difficult not to get annoyed or frustrated because these are actions one does without much thinking, everyday! I try to keep my mouth shut and stop myself from ignoringly criticising, insulting and hurting her. My mother is more and more ill and I just have to accept that.
My parents are getting old and it makes me sad. I want them to stay the Young, vibrant, physically active parents that they’ve always been. One day I’ll probably have to look after them a bit. Maybe we’ll have to start feeding my mother some months or years down the track, when her shaking becomes too big of an obstacle for her to bring the fork up to her mouth. I don’t know. All this is very sad.