I'm surprised that people still contact me about my blog and are still interested in my work and my personal family issues. But, I guess I can't say I'm that surprised. It's what drew me into blogging in the first place--the community it creates. Well, for those of you that are interested, here goes...
This year I'm teaching 2nd grade part of the day and coaching the other part. I love it--it's the best of both worlds. Our school is now a program improvement school year two. Even though our API went up 30+ points we still didn't meet the AYP. Ugh!
My siblings are still sick. My brother is now in stage 3 cancer. My mom and I went to visit him in Florida the day after Katrina. Our hotel wouldn't honor the reservation because there was no running water or electricity. It took us until 1am to find a hotel room. It was a mess out there but, of course, the visit was well worth the trouble.
My brother is a championship slot car racer, amongst other things. He's won multiple trophies, medals, and titles for speed and design. When we were kids he once let me hold a controller (and I do mean only once) and race a slot car until I flipped it off the track (which happened in about 15 seconds) after which he wrenched the control from my clutching hands and banished me from his testosterone filled room (a 1960's boy's dream filled with model cars, PT73's, and german planes hanging from the ceiling.) I longed to race a slot car but, alas, it was not to be.
Until, at least, our last visit. My brother has this ingenious coffee table he made. It looks like a coffee table, but you turn it over and it's a slot car track! Cool! So, he took out a couple of slot cars and controllers and we had at it. He was surprised that I wasn't half bad and told me that if he knew I was that good he would have raced with me long ago. He kept calling me Seabiscuit. He even let me use the good controller, which was double wrapped and in it's own case ($500.00 for a controller--geez!) It was great fun. I plan to go back and visit him in a few weeks and I'd like to take my own slot car with me, one with an "S" for Seabiscuit on the side.
My mother was in heaven sitting in her wheelchair, watching her two eldest razzing each other, just trying to have fun and not let the damned cancer be the end all be all that it tries to be. We raced in between his vomitting fits. It was cool to be with him, replay our childhood games and have them come out happy this time. Well, as happy as can be. Did I say cancer sucks? Well, it does.
He's undergoing chemo right now and in two weeks I'll be off track and I'll go take care of him. I was pretty good--I didn't cry until the last day, when we were leaving. He hugged me and said, "Don't cry kid. It is what it is." Damn you cancer. Damn, damn, damn.
My sister is still sick, too. Severe depression. She was in the hospital for a month during our visit with my brother. She's a mess, poor thing. Unable to think clearly, to care for herself, to sleep, to reason. The meds help with her mood but take away her will. I love her and I'm frustrated with her at the same time. "Why can't she just get on with it all and get better," I think, but then I have to tell myself that she's sick and she can't do what I think is logical. Damn. Sometimes I feel sorry for myself. Why us? But hey, why not us? It's life. Things happen.
In the end I think it's all worth it. The hell of it all is worth it. You exchange the hell for the beauty of a smile, a deep green, a great song, a slot car race with the brother you love... just a moment in time, replayed over and over again, with love, till you get it right. Yeah, you must enjoy the good so that it outweighs the bad. But, damn, damn, damn.
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