Packing seemed to go in slow motion. Part of me wanted to scream at Brian to hurry and part of me knew we were a 5 hour drive away. Either make it or we wouldn't and the extra 15 minutes wouldn't make a difference.

In the car we drove in complete silence. Part of me kept thinking, This is ridiculous. Dad will be fine. Dad is always fine. He's like a cat that falls off the roof ever couple of years and everyone says he's probably a goner, but then there he is without a scratch on him.

Today was not one of those days. We weren't even half way there when my sister called my cell again.

"Did mom call you?" she said. Her voice was shaking and I knew she didn't have good news.
"No, no I haven't heard from her."
"Well, I need to tell you then that Dad is....He gone. Dad has passed away." She let out a slow sob."I'm so sorry," she said, "I'm just not used to saying that out loud."

I don't actually remember what I said next. Pretty sure that I told her I loved her and to sit tight, I'd be there soon. I hung up the phone and turned to Brian. His face was creased with concern. "Dad's gone," I said, "can we please pull over."

Brian apparently didn't quite get that when I said pull over I meant, "right this fucking second," and it was a good five minute of me starting to freak out before he finally took an off ramp. I got out of the car and gulped down fresh air; tears running down my cheeks. We were practically in the middle of no where, parked on the edge of a cornfield and an orchard. It was actually a stunningly beautiful spring day. Brian put his arms around me and we cried together.

When we got back in the car, we decided our rush was over and we needed to get food. Neither of us had eaten anything that day and we're both rather miserable bastards when our blood sugar is low. We stopped at a little restaurant in Cottage Grove called The Vintage Inn. I managed to eat some french toast I think.

Feeling slightly more like humans, we got back on the road south.

May 8th, 2012

3 days before my 32nd birthday, my father passed away. He was 73.

It wasn't exactly a surprise. My father had never taken very good care of himself and the older he got the more apparent the toll on his health it had taken. The past year he'd been suffering with congestive heart failure and had all but refused treatment. He seemed terrified that his next trip under the knife would be his last and his prediction was not wrong.

On May 7th, after being in and out of the hospital with stomach pains, he finally agreed to the gallbladder removal surgery the docs had been after him to get for months. I live about 4 hours way from my parents and I asked my mother if I should come down for the surgery but she said no. The doctors didn't think it was that big of deal and were sure he would be fine.

 So I didn't go because, ladies and gentlemen, my whole life my father has been like a cat. He's been in motorcycle accidents and explosions. He's ruptured arteries and nearly bled out more times than I can count. It seems since I was a little girl, every couple of years something crazy happens to my dad and I end up at the hospital telling him goodbye as he goes into surgery because the docs just aren't sure if he'll make it out of not. But every time dad has, not only survived, but sprung back with gusto. I can't tell you how many doctors I've heard marvel at how quickly dad heals and how much progress he's made so quickly. So when mom said that the doctors weren't concerned I figured things would be ok.

But when they opened up my father what they found was not a gallbladder in need of removal but a gut full of Cancer. His liver, pancreas, everything was just riddled with tumors.

The next morning I started getting texts from my sister. She had gone down the night before. She tends to be a little jumpier than I am when it comes to Dad's health, so she went ahead and took a few days off to be with him. At 1st her text we're a little confusing. She was asking about fax numbers for my HR department so the doctors could send documentation and I was like, "what are you getting at? Do I need to come down right away?"

 She seemed very hesitant to actually say it but as the morning went on my father health began to decline rapidly and her text became more urgent. Finally, at 11am, I decided it was time to go.

 My phone rang as I was running down the steps to my car. My sister told me she thought dad should hear my voice. Suddenly the seriousness of everything hit me like a ton of bricks. Dad couldn't talk but I told him I loved him and not to be scared and that I was on my way and he was going to be ok.

The whole way home I tried to call my husband but as he worked nights he was still sleeping. I kept hoping he's hear the phone and get up but no luck. My mind was going so crazy I didn't know what to do accept hit redial over and over again. When I got home I tried not to start screaming but I knew we had a matter of hours and I wanted to get on the road ASAP. I was nervous that my husband wouldn't be able to get out of work and come with me but he assured me he was coming with me no matter what.

I'm A Geek

From: BecomeCareer.com

Strange Dream

I had a dream last night that I was pregnant but not very far along. I started having these really awful stomach pains so I went to the doctor and they we're like, the baby is coming, so they unzipped my stomach (yeah, dreams are weird) and pulled out this tiny, tiny baby.

Almost immediately they started trying to discharge me from the hospital and I was kind of in a panic because no one knew I was there and I had lost my cell phone. I didn't know how I was going to get home with my new baby. I didn't even have a car seat.

So I wrapped the baby up in a blanket and started wandering around the parking lot looking for my car. I saw a target across the street and I thought, Yes! I'll run over there and buy a car seat. And then I started thinking about how no one even knew I was pregnant and I don't have any baby stuff at all so I'd need to buy everything.

Target turns out to be a mirage. I keep walking towards it but I never get any closer. All the while my baby is being rather fussy. I can't blame her. We've been walking forever with and she's in this crappy blanket. So I finally gave up and decided to just go back to my car and take my baby home but it was too late. I was completely lost.

Now I'm in a panic as I have nothing for my baby with me and it's getting later and later and I just don't know what to do. Finally, my mom shows up with my sister and her X-husband. Someone had told them I had gone to the hospital and so they had come to see if I was ok.

They drove me home and I realized that my baby hadn't eaten anything all day. So I started trying to breast feed her and the baby latched right on. As soon as it did the baby started growing like magic. It grew and grew until it turned into about an 8 year old boy.

I stared down at him in disbelief. Suddenly he sat up, hopped out of my lap and asked if he could go play outside. I was so confused. I asked him what happened to my baby and he said that he was really sorry but that my baby had died in the hospital and that he had felt so bad for me that he had decided to pretend to be my baby. I guess he was some kind of magic forest creature or something that could shape shift. (oh dreams)

Anyway, my Mom came in just then and said, I'm sorry honey, it's true. And she handed me a medical file explaining how my baby had expired. I was so upset I did't know what to do. I curled up in a ball and just cried. The little boy came over and tried to comfort me and told me he'd continue to pretend to be my baby if I wanted. I thanked him for being so thoughtful but told him no thank you.

Then I woke up.

To Whomever it was who felt the need to create an anonymous facebook just to send my husband a link to my blog.
A. He already knows about my blog. I figured it was only a matter of time before he read it.
2. Mind your own fucking business.
3. Seriously?

How is it I always end up here when I'm sad? I'm never here blogging elated stories of victory. I only find myself here when I am in desperate need of solace.

My marriage is falling apart, faster than I know what to do with and the hard truth is I don't think there is anything I can do. Not without loosing myself. Not without giving up so much of me that I don't recognize myself anymore.

I love my husband dearly but I fear love is not enough. Not anymore. I have given so much of myself to try and make things work and gotten so little in return that I am growing ever bitter.

It's not that my husband is a bad man. In truth he is kind and loving. But I think a marriage should be more than that. We should lift each other up and take care of each other. Find strength in one another.

But I find no strength in my husband. When I am low his eyes are pools of despair and I sink in them. Down ever deeper.

In my heart I see the way I want my life to be. I see all the things I want to do and all the adventures I want to have and when I try to picture my husband there with me all I can think is how much he doesn't want any of these things. How none of these dreams are his.

I want to scream because I while I know he could be amazing, I watch him take 2nd place over and over again because he's too scared to fight for 1st. I just can't watch it anymore. It turns my stomach and leaves me angry and so very disappointed.

And the worst part is I know that I'm going to break his heart into a million pieces if I go and the thought of hurting him is almost more than I can bare. But in the meantime I cut out little pieces of myself and try and use them as bandages on the holes in our marriage. And every piece I cut feels like a valley in the middle of my soul. No empty. so alone.

Last night Nori Spect of the Break Neck Betties had her gear stolen from her car! Everything is gone, skates, pads, uniform etc. Nori is currently on unemployment and cannot afford the cost of replacing all of her gear. Please chip in what you can to help her get back on her skates!