Superwoman, for a Day in Poetic Nonsense

Day20. Doubts are building. About whether this journal was a good idea. Really....about whether this year was a good idea. But here we are. 20 days in, no take-backsies. When my husband told me his brother had decided to take on all responsibilities of his sickly father, I knew it was all or nothing. I love his family. Honestly. I think I must be in that rare fraction of people who actually enjoy their in-laws and see extended family as a joy. I tell his mom this on a regular basis…which always feels like sucking up, but is an honest expression of gratitude. The way I feel about his brother, not so much. Here we go....
When M’s dad was diagnosed with cancer, we were all heartbroken. He was supposed to be invinsible. What was supposed to happen now? There were a million directions to take, and we chose to follow a route of chemo and good will. Brother had no such intention. He didn’t want chemo, and at the first chance he got (last week), he threw the hospital off onto a rabbit trail. “Dad’s having chest pains!” he complained....as if this was something new, and not something that had been going on for not only months but YEARS. Naturally, the hospital kept him for observation. This is when he went into heart failure, after the routine-IV flooded his lungs. It’s hard to remain neutral here. My mom, who is a nurse, swears that if an IV sent him into heart failure, it was inevitable that his heart would fail within the week without a catalyst. Meanwhile, it’s SO easy to blame brother for this. It takes a conscious effort to ignore him…flash forward a few days…
Tuesday night. His heart is failing. Hospice is called in, and they convince us he has maybe days to live. His last rights are given. All of the family is called to the house. He looks awful. He’s sitting, but barely. His legs are swollen, and his eyes are fluttering to stay awake. I’m sure he has days. My husband is sure he is getting stronger every day. This is what breaks my heart to pieces. If we’re going to lose him, I don’t want to be the only one who knows it’s about to happen. I can’t be the one to say “I told you so.” in matters like this. It’s not fair. My husband is the youngest by far, at only 38. You should never have to say goodbye to your father at 38, but here we are. I’ve lost many friends, but no family members. I don’t know how to be good at this. I’ll do my best, but it’s honestly terrible. I can take care of myself, no problem. But watching the people I love the most hurt SO much is practically unbearable. There’s no way to be good at it. In the end, we’ll all do our best. No one will be great at it, and we’ll all get through it. Meanwhile, I just wish there was a way to be a temporary super hero:(