Troubled Times

They say misery loves company. I’m thinking trouble doesn’t like being lonely either. Trouble has come to my family, and has brought grief and turmoil with it.

Last Monday was a long day for us. We spent part of it at a hospital in Memphis. My Uncle Harold, my mother’s brother-in-law, is there with heart problems. Despite procedures and medications, nothing seems to be working.

My aunt, the woman we have called "Sister" all of our lives, was by his side. But her mind was also on her son, who was in a hospital in Hot Springs. My cousin Bobby was in Intensive Care, from complications after brain surgery. Sister came from the hospital in Hot Springs to the hospital in Memphis when Harold started having chest pains. They are still there, weeks later.

We also spent some time in Tupelo, Mississippi. My dad’s brother-in-law, my Uncle Tom, was in the hospital there. He has cancer. In his liver, his spleen, his spine, his lungs, and his brain. He has eight tumors in his brain. There is no hope.

Three weeks ago, my Uncle Tom and my Aunt Linda were on vacation at the Grand Canyon. All was well, and they had no idea he was sick. Then he spilled his coffee, and his balance seemed a little off. He got lost at the airport. My aunt was mildly concerned, so she scheduled a doctor’s appointment. The bottom of their world simply dropped out from beneath them.

A month ago he was fine, or so we thought. And in a month or so, he will no longer be with us.
We know life has no guarantees. We know people die. Yet it is still a shock, each time. As we drove through Tupelo, we passed the hotel we had stayed in when my grandmother was sick. We went to the same hospital, walked the same halls.

We drove through New Albany, passed the hospital both my grandmother and my grandfather died at. We passed the hotel we stayed in, the restaurant we ate most of our meals at. Although it has been six years since we lost my Mom Decanter and not quite two years since we lost my Pop, the grief was still fresh as we retraced some of those same steps.

Now, here we are again, on the brink of losing another that we love. To that murdering beast that has already stolen part of my family. Cancer. I hate that word. It is the filthiest of words, the vilest of all of the curse words in the human language.

My Aunt Linda is devastated, as you would expect. They have been married more than 45 years. They have three children, two grandchildren; a life built together since she was teenager. She simply does not know how she will function alone when she always had her partner by her side.

We, her family, have and will continue to surround her with love. It won’t be enough, of course, but perhaps it will help as much as anything can help in such horrible circumstances.
If you see my mom, my dad, or me around in the next little while, we might be a little distracted. We might be thinking about my cousin Bobby in Hot Springs; my Uncle Harold in Memphis, or my Uncle Tom in Tupelo.

We are a family, and when one part of us has trouble, we all have trouble. Our hearts are hurting, because we can’t be everywhere we need to be each and every time we need to be there.

My Aunt Linda told me she wished I lived in Mississippi, so I could help her get through this. I will help her, in any way I can. We all will, with each of them. It’s what we do, when trouble comes to family.