Vulnerability...

I suck at it. I was born from good, strong, Irish stock and if you know anything about the Irish they don't embrace the notion of it. Well, I have to now. I'm going to make myself vulnerable first, because it's a good practice in humility and second because I thought you all should know what a rough time I'm having right now so you don't get your nose out of joint if I'm not Miss Aly-Sunshine as I usually am.

Two very difficult things are going on in my heart and body right now...

First, I'm sick.

I just accepted that for the first time in five months. The doctors are stumped by me. I've been to specialists and had pints of blood sucked from my body. I've been poked and prodded, scanned and x-rayed. It's more than disheartening to wake up each morning with no answers and no treatment. The worst of my symptoms is the inability to breath. I'm gasping for air most of the day and dizzy and exhausted. I've tried, unsuccessfully, to ignore these symptoms and push through, thinking that it's something I'll just get over eventually. I don't like doctors, I don't like pills and I don't want to be sick! I have a family to take care of and business to grow and friends I miss hanging out with. The walls of my house are a bit of a prison for me.

Second (and the harder problem of the two)

My Daddy is dying. I miss him. I adored him as he adored me. He has Alzheimer's, so instead of losing him all at once I lose him in pieces. He forgets who I am sometimes and I can't explain how painful it is for a self described Daddy's girl. I am bereft. I weep at strange times during the day, when a memory strikes me....the smell of his cologne that the pharmacist had on, the sound of his booming laughter, the way he would tease my mother when she would nag him, the sight of him in his beautiful business suits in the morning, his tall 6'4'' frame and how safe I felt in his arms, when he would hold me to his chest and talk to me in his deep bass voice, soothing me, encouraging me, telling me how proud he is of me. He was the first man I loved, so handsome and dignified and strong. I cling to these mind pictures now as he is reduced to a small bed in a nursing home, thin, quiet, alone. I have dreams about him almost every night. Some beautiful, us talking and walking together. Others 'warnings' he won't be on this earth for much longer. And I can't be sad about that, he needs to be released from this world. He needs to be with his Lord but, I will miss him so and be sorry that my children never got to experience the bright, joyful man that was Ray Marotte, who I was named for. I promise to continue tell my children stories of their fun, big, loud, Grandpa Ray. He loves his children and he always made sure we knew it.

Thank you Daddy,

Your Forever Princess,

Alyson Rae