It's OK.

It was 12:10 am on Thursday September 12, 2013. The day my dad was scheduled for cervical spine stabilization surgery. A surgery that was the result of a malignant tumor doctors found 2 months prior. He'd had the Radiation Therapy, no Chemotherapy was needed {thankfully}and this was the next step in the process. But I hadn't really talked about it with anyone, not even my own family. I had sort of distanced myself from feeling anything towards any of it. I remained impassive. No opinions one way or the other, just that the surgery was what needed to happen next. I don't think I did it consciously, it's just how I am.

The Monday before, when we were told that he would be having the surgery, I didnt feel any different, life hadn't felt any different. I got Jackson out of bed at his usual time, fed him his breakfast, changed him, played with him...and it was all just normal. Nothing had really changed after all. My Dad was just having surgery, right? A surgery to help him, right? This was a GOOD thing, right? But as I rocked Jackson to sleep that night it hit me like a ton of bricks, sharp and quick.

Sadness.

It ALL came bursting out of me at once. Unrestricted, exhaustive, stuttering breath, just sobbing.

For all of the impassivity I had experienced the past couple of months with my Dad's cancer, it felt very strange and very sudden and very overwhelming. It was selfish sadness. I was crying because MY Daddy who I love SO much would be having a pretty extensive surgery. One that if something went wrong...he would never walk again.

But I WAS NOT even going to put those thoughts out in the universe.

I haven't ever really known what to do with ALL of that emotion. The old Amber {pre-motherhood Amber} would lash out, throw things, scream and do something very drastic. When you think about it, SAD is such a tiny word for such a deep emotion. That night after I rocked Jackson to sleep and laid him down for the night, I walked outside and cried and sobbed and had an anxiety attack and cried and sobbed. After ALL that had happened in the few months leading up to that, I just couldn't hold it in anymore. I broke, finally and it felt OK. But even though it felt OK, I still have this thought or concern or whatever that no matter how old he is, I cant let my son see me break. I cant let him see the tears stream down my face. I have to let him know {somehow} that I am strong. I just have to.

But even still, I need to remember and to tell Jackson someday, that it is OK to be sad. It's ok because when my son finally saw those tears streaming down my face later that day {yes, more tears...it was a rough day} he tilted his head to get my attention as he so splendidly does and just touched my cheek and looked at me with those gorgeous big blue eyes as if to tell me that "Everything is going to be fine Momma."

And I believe him.

My two BEST guys...

My two BEST guys...

Taking Stock::01

Swipe NO!