I Got Nothing.

I Got Nothing.

It feels like I’ve podcasted endlessly lately about my marked lack of emotion when it comes to my dad and his failing health. For those of you who don’t listen to the show, allow me to recap. About two and a half months ago my dad was brought to the ER after falling down in the middle of the night and hitting his head. It was discovered he’d suffered a stroke as well (or maybe that’s what caused the fall). He’s not come home since then. In fact he’s had at least two more strokes since then and has since been put under hospice care at the nursing home. Twice in the past month I’ve gotten the phone call that it seems it’s the end for dad. Most recently he was unresponsive to pain stimulus and had a dropping body temp. Both times the next day he was mostly back to where he’d been before whatever he’d gone through.

So it’s been an up and down ten weeks. Through it all I’ve been as stoic as ever. I feel nothing about the impending passing of my dad. I’m back to intellectually “feeling” my way through the situation. I rely on knowing what the situation calls for and acting accordingly. Being supportive of Mom and my brother. Being concerned about Dad and how Mom is handling things. But I don’t feel anything about it.

I’ve tried to tap into some latent emotion about it. I’ve tried to force myself into the realization that the man I’ve known for 46 years won’t be here much longer. That I’ll never get to talk to him again. Hear him joke. I think I’ve gotten into that space, and it is a strange thought. But other than understanding what’s happening/will happen, I got nothing. And I know/believe it’s wrong. I see myself as being a bad person for it.

Now there’s more.

I’m up in Michigan right now because of the most recent “dad’s last days” call. I got here yesterday. I’ve been trying to get back into the running ways and my training program calls for me to run Sat/Sun and I was fortunate to find a rail-trail about 20 minutes away to run on. While driving to the trail this morning I clipped a fawn that popped out of nowhere.

I did my best to swerve into oncoming traffic to avoid the little one, but I still banged into it with my right front bumper. Out of the corner of my eye I saw it disappear into the woods, but I don’t know if it ran on its own or if it was the force of the impact. I managed to get the car back into my lane before the oncoming cars could show me what a real impact is.

Phew! Heart pounding. Adrenaline pumping. Sweaty palms. Right?

Nope. Not me. I got nothing. I took it in stride like pulling away from a four way stop.

Nora won’t let me claim to be heartless. She is resolute that I have one. I’m not so sure.

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I Should Be Running

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Too Little Butter