A blank page

It's funny how the blog post screen is not truly white. It's kinda swirly grayish white. I loved clean white crisp paper pages in my journals. I used to write so much when I was younger. I wrote about the stupidest, most moronic things. But they were journal worthy to me! When I'm bored I'll pull out a stack and tumble back through time for a few hours. I had to give a story to everything that happened. I wrote in detail what a boy friend at the time had worn when we went out to dinner. Or what I said when we were driving all over the back roads. It all seemed SO important. I had an urgency to document what was happening to me back then. I don't understand why I had that drive to write so much back then. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch. I remember how my mother would get so mad at me when I had a paper due for school that was a 500 word essay or something and I couldn't ever think of something suitable to write about. But I could spend hours writing in my journal! I would fill up an average size journal in 3 months or less. I thank God, now that I had that drive. Because so many of those details have slipped out of my memory. I don't know if it's just old age or maybe to many bad heart aches that I just block those years out. But now the few memories I have from my teens and early twenties I can only piece together with my journals. I wonder now if maybe that's what will keep happening as I get older? That is why I MUST keep writing. I don't want to forget these days!! Even though Mr. Farmer and I have so much craziness going on in our lives right now I don't want to forget my feelings and the funny little details that happen, they may just might fall through the cracks in my memory bank just like all the rest. Mama Farmer has been back in the hospital all week. She was put back into the Critical Care Unit because she has began losing blood again. I guess the Chemo has made her veins weak inside her liver so they burst easily and she ends up bleeding internally until they can cauterize the veins to stop the bleeding. They did that yesterday. This is the 2nd time they have had to do this in less then a month... The day before she started losing blood. Mama Farmer's brother ended up getting put into the hospital (Critical Care Unit also) because he was filling up with fluid he couldn't hardly breath and felt like he was suffocating... He was diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure he only has about 30% good muscle mass (not sure how to explain this) in his heart. Because he has probably been suffering from Congestive heart failure for a LONG time. His kidney's have began shutting down. He really is in such bad shape. The man never took care of his self he is over weight and has smoked at least a pack and a half of cigarettes a day everyday for 35+ years. On top of all that he drinks 2 gallons of coffee a day. The man was just a ticking time bomb. So Mama Farmer and her Baby Brother have been in the Critical Care unit all week right down the hall from each other. Mama Farmer's mother is completely beside herself. She is 80 years old and has been having to face the reality of maybe seeing 2 of her 3 children die before she does... Mama Farmer's brother is married but never had children. He has always treated Mr. Farmer as they son he didn't have. Mr. Farmer it seems is just inside out. I have never thought so much about death as I have over the last year and a half. And I used to work in a nursing home for 4 years and death was almost a daily occurrence there. But to be the primary care giver of a family member who is fighting cancer and let me tell you she is FIGHTING it!!! Death/cancer seems to be crawling through my home, seeping in under the doors and setting down at the table with me when I eat my cereal. It seems to make every thought I have follow it along into the darkness. I'm wore out thinking what next. What do we do when X happens. What about after Y treatment. What will she do if she can't get strong enough for Y treatment?.... Will we my happy posting/journaling days ever come back?... I'm wore out from worry!! I know that we all have trials and tribulations. But how long are they supposed to last? I'm not saying I don't have good days at all anymore but the clouds of the bad days are always hanging in the back ground of my good days. I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wish some days that I could go back to the days of those crisp blank white pages when I had so much to share but it really wasn't anything special. When life wasn't so scary and it was an adventure waiting to happen.