close to home

I think it hit my mom a few days ago, but it finally caught up to me.

Wish it was the flu.

It's the reality of my dad's cancer.

It's much easier to be there for someone that's just a friend or even a stranger. But when it's the father who was always there when you were sick, and now you're the one taking care of him. I can hold a heating pad to his back with two comforters wrapped around him. And he's still shivering.

I can crack a few pathetic jokes. He smiled at a couple of them.

And I have to watch this happen to my hero. But I close the door and cry quietly so my mom doesn't see my meltdown. I could use some kleenex, but can't let my mom see.

I suppose she'll go to bed sometime tonight.

I feel so alone, and I have to get it out of my system so I can work tomorrow.