can't stop the world

Apparently there will be no peace for my little family this year. As Brian and I grow older together, and face more of life together, there's a decent chance we'll back on this first year of marriage and say, "Yeah, that was the worst." Hopefully we will also be saying, "If we can survive that, we can survive anything."

Lilly's mom, S, has been in the hospital for over a week, and they don't know what's wrong with her, and cancer is a possibility. She has low blood counts and clotting problems. And the doctors were planning to amputate her foot - until yesterday when they found enough blood flow, thank heavens. She's in critical care, being watched for signs of stroke, and awaiting biopsy results for a mass on her ovary. She's 51.

Yeah. Here's what we don't want: Me grieving my daughter. Lilly grieving her mother. And did I mention Brian has lyme disease? I think my head is going to explode.

We've told Lilly some but not all. She knew about the amputation, and heart-breakingly asked, "Will mom be more active after the operation?" She's not dumb. She knows her mom is not an especially well person. And she desperately wants her to be - well, happy, active. Instead what she sees more often is smoking, fast food, back pain medication.

I try not to judge (could work on that more): S has been through some absolutely hellish stuff in her life, and we all take comfort where we can. But the consequences for Lilly are rotten. At least once a month, well before this hospitalization, Lilly tells Brian she's afraid S is going to die. Again, not dumb.

I watched them once. We attended Lil's 4th grade open house together. I watched through the the windows of the school's glass-enclosed foyer as Lilly walked her mom to her car: S flapping down the hill in her big black raincoat, Lilly prancing along side, shepherding her down the sidewalk. Lilly pointing out the location of the car. Lilly helping her cross the street. And when they hugged, Lilly giving her mom the comforting goodbye pats on the back.

Of course Lilly worries about her mom, but more than that, she feels like her caretaker. She knows S's weaknesses and talks to us about how they worry her. She both reports on and covers for her mom's missteps. She grows angry and confused if she has to choose between some fun event and a visit to S. The emotional stakes are high for any child whose parent is ill or dying. I think they are especially high for Lilly.

It breaks my heart. Their relationship is one I will only ever observe through the glass. Brian set the boundaries early, and I think that's a good thing. I can only do what I can do for her on this side of things. Feed her, clothe her, get her where she needs to go, give hugs and kisses, support her relationship with S, keep my own boundaries, expect good behavior, don't pile on.

We really need S to pull through this. For her own sake, of course. But really for Lilly, who has had about as much as a girl should have to take at 10. And, frankly, for me, who's just about had it with this year too.