Next week my father is having surgery to remove a cancerous prostate and I've managed to not think about the operation for the most part, until it finally hit me: My dad is sick and he'll never be the same after this operation. Even if they get all the cancer (which they better), his daily routine, his bodily functions, his ability to behave like an adult man is going to be irreparably altered. And if they don't get all the cancer out, he could get even sicker. My relationship with my dad has changed so much over the years. I used to be a huge daddy's girl but once I grew up, some of his personality traits started driving me nuts and I pushed him away for a long time. He was wonderful last summer, though his tendencies toward theatricality and litigiousness shone through every so often. Still, he's my dad. He loves me to death and I love him, and I can't wrap my mind around what life would be like if he weren't around anymore.
On a more superficial note, this weekend is my not-wedding anniversary. My shrink's been asking me for weeks if the date bothered me and for the longest time it didn't, but then it got me down. And that just made me mad--there's nothing to be down about!! Life is so much better without Glenn. I thank god that I didn't marry him. I'm blessed with amazing friends, a close-knit family, a great job and a good life. Somehow I found my way to a new relationship that, while new, is going well. It makes me so angry that the past can still kick me in the gut. I spent a year getting over that experience and I am tired of feeling pain because of it. So this weekend is celebratory for me. It's just a date, just a day, but it's a day that is triumphant for me. At least I'll try to make it triumphant. In a lot of ways, it doesn't mean anything at all.