I'm baaaaaaaaaAyck. I understand there have been requests for my return, and for this I am honored.
Quick reminder that this wee lil' blog is my perspective only. I could always be way off... I used to get the answers WAY wrong in English Lit when asked what some reading passage meant. WAY OFF. Disclaimer done.

My heaviest perspective right now is that of a parent, a mama. That perspective that we would do anything...everything... just so that one of our own doesn't have to experience a pain, a disappointment, a loss.
My darkest worry is having to explain any of this to my children, or to see a change in PawPaw affect their perception of him. Ethan told PawPaw this weekend that he was gettin' old. Now, Ethan thinks that if you have a beard you are old, so.. I don't know what tipped him off that Dad is aging, and we'll probably never know.

Back to my point... my dreadful pairing of Middle Child and Mama-Guts, all mixed about, hates that I can't take this all away from Mom, from Dad, from my sibligs, from the babies, from Granny... because I know that I would be fine.
I'm aggressive, I'm strong, I would fight it down and everything would turn out fine, 'cause I'm me... and I would feel like crap, but I'd keep doing and going, and be positive, and work, and sleep when I could, and I'd form my team, and trust them, and do what they said, and show up like I always have, and assure my family that I'm just fine. It'd just be better if it were me because I have no doubt that I could do it.
And then it hits me.... he's not glad it's him, but he IS glad it's him. Because its not his Debbie, and its not his Sam, or Erin, or Rachel, or his Alicia, or Shaun, or Matt, or Eli, or Ethan, or Emily, or Elliot.

He's glad it's him, because he knows he can do it.