nothing good comes easily

"Sometimes the only way to move forward is to stop moving. To stand still and to decide that no matter what happens, no matter how much it hurts, you are exactly where you want to be."

Just breathe.

Nothing tastes more bitter in your mouth than the harsh sting of mortality. It's a reminder that mankind, in all of it's glory, is infallible. It's the realization that your parents are not super heroes--and even more upsetting--that your parents are just like you. Human.

I came back from Nova Scotia to a dad that had to be rushed in for emergency surgery for a pretty serious condition. He had no idea and didn't really pay much attention to the symptoms. He's okay now, but it'll be a long road to recovery.

My dad and I have always been close. I have a lot of his spirit and his fire in me, it's something we both realize and are proud of. But seeing him high on morphine for weeks, totally out of it with scary bandages and gauze encompassing his leg, I wanted nothing more than to crawl back onto his lap and have him read Curious George to me, in that funny voice that he does just to make me laugh.

Seeing a loved one in pain is one thing. But seeing dad like that was enough to make me scream. My dad's infallible. My dad's the cooolest person ever--the man who taught me how to ride a bike, the man who taught me how to put oil in my car, and the man that chased a boyfriend around two blocks with a steel pipe, just to give him a good scare.

"That boy won't ever hurt you now," he said. I stared wide eyed between my crazy dad and my boyfriend, who was still out on our lawn, wide eyed, chest heaving.

He's doing better now. But seeing a man so strong, so proud, hobbling around still in so much pain is devastating. I've been taking him to his daily doctor's appointment. It's probably a moment of shame for him, to have to be driven around and puttered over, but it gives me a sense of pride to be able to do a few small things to take care of him. He's spent his life taking care of me.

It just makes everything seem so fleeting. Things have been tough since I came back from Nova Scotia. I can't change the situation, but I can change my outlook, so I've been working on it.

I chose to come back. I chose to take a great opportunity with CBC. I choose to be happy wherever I am, because I may not always control why I'm in a particular situation, but I can control how I react to it.

It just seems a little trivial. When I was in Halifax, there was a boy from the past that popped up. He said all the right things (again), we talked, and he made a good pitch. Told me he realized how I was, understood why I keep running away, said that we could go real slow. He really poured it out and it sounded genuine. I told him we'd talk when I got back to Montreal. Here I am, and he disappeared. Just completely vanished, and it's as if the entire thing never happened.

I can't control the present. I certainly can't control the future. But maybe, just maybe, I can close my eyes and trust that while it may not feel right, while it may not be where I want to be, while it may feel so completely unnatural and wrong--that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now.

Maybe, if I close my eyes.

And just remember to breathe.