Be Still.
Well today has been a day of sorts. I'm not even quite sure where to begin or if I even want to begin. Perhaps since I can't really participate in Half Nekkid Thursday I'll bare a different kind of skin.
I used to pride myself on the fact that I knew my troubled father better than anyone else...even himself. I guess you could have called me a daddy's girl back in the day. There are many facets to my dad..so many that I just can't type it all out. But to put it lightly, he's irresponsible and lazy. He is morbidly obese and has been so for many years. I have repeatedly tried to help him in his weight-loss efforts, but always failed. I've been there for him through thick and thin because that is what our relationship has always been. I've been there for him financially (many times), I've nursed him back to stable health during bad health conditions (I've seen more infectious disease on one body than I've ever wanted to), and most importantly I've been there for him emotionally and for moral support. Why would I do all of that for a grown man that should be able to fend for himself? I ask myself that very question every day and I come up with the same answer...because he's my dad and if he can't take care of himself than someone must, and that's me because I love him.
My father is very ignorant when it comes to his health. His max weight has been 500 lbs. He has to walk with a cane becuase the weight has caused a severe curvature in his spine and also a hairline fracture which result in him being hunched foreward. He is 51 years old and can't sleep at night because of the pain in his joints (specifically his hips). He won't admit to the fact that it is a result of his weight. He is a very stubborn man. He has been in the hospital for all of the following; blood poisoning, deep muscle staff infections in his leg, bleeding ulcer, heart murmer, sleep apnia...
Up until today I have not talked to my dad in almost 6 months. A rift tore our relationship apart and for a long time I didn't think it could ever be repaired. I was angry for that whole 6 months. I was angry because I could bare my soul to my father and did and it didn't get through to him that he needs to change his lifestyle. Change the lifestyle that will kill him. I was angry because I was tired of being the parent in our relationship and desperately wanted to act like a child for once. I was angry that I couldn't hate him because as stubborn as he is, I love him more than life itself.
Today my dad called me, and he couldn't say my name without breaking down into sobs. He told me that he is sick. He can't walk very much anymore. So bad that he can barely get in and out of his car. Whe he goes to the gym they have to bring him in with a wheelchair. The doctors think its some form of muscular dystrophy; a neuromuscular disorder that takes over your body. They haven't pin pointed exactly what it is, but they're fairly certain of it.
My dad is scared. He's scared that after 25 years of being morbidly obese that his chance to get his health in order has passed him by. For the first time he sees his health in the same light that I see it and everyone else that loves him, the light that sees death right around the corner. I'm scared for him..... and for myself. Is that selfish?
He wants our relationship back. He wants the one person that can see through his many tricks and lies back in his life to help him try to get healthy. He wants me to offer the one thing he lacks...will-power. A part of me is angry, angry at what he did that caused the rift, but another chunk of me can't turn down his plea for help. What if my cold shoulder is what kills him? What if I become his crutch once again and he still fails? What does that say?
Before our rift my biggest fear was losing him. Today my fear is that I'll lose him to anything and not have him know how much I love him or that despite any differences we have I'm still daddy's little girl at heart.
I know I'm over-reacting, but it's all I know how to do.