This is the hard part

Dear Dad,

Oh holy mother of god. I've been thinking about it and yes, you did say absolutely every soul crushing, hope stealing, deadly thing you could have said to Mom tonight. The part of me that wondered as a teenager why she stayed married to you kind of hoped she would ask for a divorce instead of turning her head and looking out the window to be somewhere other than listening to you say she couldn't go home. A part of me wondered if it would have been better for her to have slipped away from us without having to endure this hardest part, especially since she has to do it with you.

~Ava

It is only a matter of time before we blame the sick for their ills. Why do we do this? Why do we pretend life is fair? That if you eat healthy and blah, blah, that life won't just steal your health anyway. Why do those of us who enjoy health feel like we've done something to earn it? Don't get me wrong, my chubby ass is in the gym working it out to try to mitigate the ass kicking life has in store for me but I'm not 'healthy' because I'm good, I'm healthy because my ass is lucky. I want to tell my mom it's okay if she doesn't want to fight to stay here. I hate to see her so miserable, so alone, so without hope that she can even eat normally again. Who would force someone to stay here under those circumstances? I want to quit my job and just stay home to get her better. I don't want to leave her to the psychological torture of my Dad. It was truly awful. He went without a breath for 3 minutes covering themes like the hospital sending her home to die, sending her a shitty rehab place where she would be left in a corner, all the things she couldn't do right now, how he would figure out how to live on a fixed income so they could both retire, things he needed to do for work, how he didn't want to move to be close to her family.... I finally said, 'this isn't really hospital talk.' I mean, Jesus man why do I have to tell you that? We didn't know this time last week if she was brain dead or would ever regain consciousness. She sat up today. For fuck's sake, calm yourself man. She's in a really tough spot. It's hard to be so weak you can't reposition yourself on the bed. Give. her. a. break.

Dear Mom,

This is not your fault. You are a trooper and continue to be. We didn't help you as much as we should. We left you to your own care and hoped our nagging and goading would motivate you when you were clawing your way through every day just trying to get by. We failed you. I'm sorry. I love you and I want more than anything for you to be well. I question my very faith in the face of your suffering and I know you wonder if it will ever be better, if it's worth all the hard work just to be here miserable. I know my answer will always be yes, I want you here in whatever condition you are in, but I also know my answer is selfish. I love you and want more than anything to see you healed whether this side or beyond. I guess what I'm saying is you don't have to stay here for me. I will never be over you and I wish you didn't have to suffer.You have done so much. You have seen the world, visited me every place I've lived, held wise counsel both in my youth and now. You have remained married to a very flawed man. I don't know how you did it. Seriously. I mean, you had some money and you know your family would have helped raise us. If they were handing out Nobel prizes for living with him, I think you'd sweep. I hope it's the gall bladder. I want so much for you to feel better. If there were justice your drug addict sister wouldn't be the healthier of the two of you.