Happy Holidays... I'm fakin' it this year

I cannot seem to feel good about the holidays this year. It's sad because it truly is my favourite holiday but this year... I have little Christmas spirit.

This weekend, my granpa was told he has cancer. The found it on his liver and it isn't the main source of the cancer so that means it has spread. He's dying, plain and simple.

We all are dying, I know, but I feel like I've aged about 10 years in the last week. The weight of having to deal with a parent's imminent death is horrible.

He's my granpa, not my dad I know, but you see, we have each other and that's about it as far as family goes. I have always been close to my grandparents. Always. In fact, if it weren't for them, I would not have made it through an otherwise shitty childhood.

I don't talk to my mom and he isn't close with anyone else. He is my step-grandfather, it's complicated but he's been there since I was born so he's my granpa. Simple as that.

Anyway, because my "family" is so messed up, I have leaned on and counted on my grandparents for life lessons, strength and guidance. When my grandma died, I was only 19 years old. Her and I shared a studio bedroom apartment in Edmonton, before she died of lung cancer.

My grandfather was devastated when she died, obviously because she was the love of his life. It was then that we developed a ridiculously strong relationship based on our love and passion for hockey.

I know, right!? Weird. But we had always battled about our Oilers/Flames love/hate relationship. He's from Calgary and likes to bug me about the Oilers while I'm an Edmonton girl and love to rub it in his face about our 5 Stanley Cups. It's how we bond.

My granpa flew in from Kuwait to walk me down the aisle when I got married (did I mention he lived/worked there for 20 years? Yah, that's another blog).

When I got a job at a daily paper as a sports scribe, he flew home to make sure I was doing OK and let me know how proud he was of me.

When I had Oscar, he came home to meet him. Oz is named after Big Daddy's granpa but his middle name is my grandfather's.

I haven't seen my granpa as much as I should have in the past couple of years... life gets in the way. But I always think about him.

I was at the hospital this afternoon and the doctor told me I should find out what his "code status" is in case it's needed.

Do you know what a code status is? It's a DNR - Do Not Resuscitate. So you either are a thumbs up or a thumbs down.

How the hell do I approach that? I don't like asking these questions and I sure as shit don't want to talk about him dying. He's depressed enough.

So I said, "Granpa, I have to ask you a question."

"Ok, dear."

"Uhm, well, you know if you go flatline, do you want the doctors to try and save you?"

Fuck. Tactful as all hell, aren't I?

He just looked away and said, "Well at that point I won't care, now will I?"

Then he started talking about the Oilers. Because he's scared of dying, I'm sure. When I'm talking to him, I maintain a pretty calm, cool and witty composure because I don't want to stress him out.

But he started talking about his will and personal papers and things I just don't want to hear about. Ignorance is bliss, right? If I don't know then it's not real.

I had to leave. I couldn't sit there and discuss it with him. It's too painful.

So I left but he called me as I was driving home and asked me to bring him a notepad. That there were some things he wanted to get on paper.

So, here I sit. Blogging instead of getting in the truck and driving. I'm stalling because I just don't want to go back today.

I am truly struggling with how to put on a chipper facade for my kids over the next few days. I guess I just have to focus on the moment with them this Christmas and block everything else out.

Think I'll look up one of the Cocktail Deeva's recipes and fix me a pitcher of somethin' for when I get home. There's sure to be some holiday joy in there!! ;)

xoxo

t.