Untitled.

I don't understand how there can be no tears in Heaven.

My heart is literally breaking into pieces down here on earth.  My mind is in chaos.  I can not fathom how one can be in Heaven and not shed a tear or go through the heart ache of having to miss your wife, your son, your daughter, and so many other family members.  How is it that when the Lord takes my daddie and my heart breaks into even more pieces (which I assure there won't be much more to break) that he will not be going through the same emotions and feelings as I???!!!!!!  I just can't wrap my head around this. 

And I shouldn't have to.

But I do.

Today we found out that the cancer has spread to my daddie's lungs.

Really?  The poor man already has cancer in his bladder and liver and possibly his intestines...what is this? A all or nothing game???  I suppose it is.

I can't help to think what it would've been like if my dad had not been in that 10% survival rate for Hodgkins disease back in the 70's.  What if he was in the 90% of people who didn't make it?  Well...there probably would have been no ME.  And while I hate to think what life would be like without my parents or brother or nephew (and the list goes on forever), at the same time, I would've never have known what life would be like with them so I really wouldn't be missing it.  I would have never had to go through this tremendous amount of pain, this ginormous amount of hurt and anger, this massive amount of fear of losing my daddie when I was 24 years old.

How horrible is it that I'm thinking this????  I mean really???  If my dad had died back in the 70's he would have never been my dad.  That sentence and thought is so horrible to think about. 

Just to set the record straight...I'm happier than all of you reading this combined that my dad did survive death the first time.

My friend Angela from work and I were talking the other night.  I was sharing with her a article I had read in a magazine about this women whose mother abandoned her and her two sisters when she was 4.  Just up and left.  No note, no nothing.  The father was in and out of jail and none of their family members could keep all 3 of them for a long period of time.  She talks about all the different foster parents she had.  About walking up to the house with all 3 of the sisters carrying all their possessions in a garbage bag.  The story goes on and does end up happy but it got Angela and I talking about our own adoptions. 

Angela was just 4 days old when she was adopted and I was 13 days old so for the both of us, our (adoptive) parents are all we've ever known.  The story in the magazine really made us think about how lucky were both were to get adopted so fast and to get adopted by extraordinary parents.  We didn't have to go through rough times with foster parents or even bad adoptive parents.

I am truly a answer to prayer.  And I know and understand this.  I am truly a gift from God to Bill and Anne Fetrow.  It blows my mind to think about this. 

It's cliche to say but everything happens for a reason.  There is a reason my dad survived Hodgkins disease and 42 radiation treatments only for those treatments to ruin his organs to the point he is dying from the thing that saved him the first time.  There is a reason why my parents weren't able to have a child of their own and thus ended up adopting Benji and I.  There is a reason why God is taking the greatest man I've even known away from me.  I don't understand it.  I don't like it.  I can officially say I've never hated something more in my life.  But I am helpless.  I can pray he won't be in much pain.  I can selfishly ask for God to wait until my daddie can walk me down the isle.  But I can't fix it.  No one can.  I understand that.  I've accepted it.  But I certainly don't like it. 

People keep talking like he is going to be rid of the cancer.  And it might happen.  But the chances of him surviving cancer in the bladder, the liver, the lungs, AND the intestines....I don't think you can even give that percentage a number it's that small.  And it sucks.  It litterally is the worst thing in the world. 

I wish that last sentence there, "the worst thing in the world" wasn't so desensitized.  We use that phrase so often that when I use it here it somehow doesn't seem strong enough.  But it truly is THE worse thing IN THE WORLD to know that a vicious disease is eating my daddie from  the inside out.  That he won't be here to see me graduate college.  To see me start a family. To see his grandsons become famous baseball players for the Cubs. 

It's so hard to cherish the time we have left when all I want to do is to crawl into bed and never get out.  But I have to.  I have work and school and now a wedding to plan in 2 months!! 

And I mean almost litteraly two months!

We've finally settled on a date.

May 14, 2011.

I finally realized that, "wait a second...this is Brandon and my wedding.  I need to stop worrying about whenever everyone else (minus my dad) can have this wedding and start worrying about US!"  This is our wedding.  May 14 isn't going to work for everyone but neither is any other date we would pick.  The most important thing to us is to have my daddie there and May 14 works for us and so that when we're getting married. 

Now only to find a place.  I haven't gone to my parents church since I was a junior in high school and never really saw myself getting married there.  I was attending the 509 Community in Huntington for 6 years but we never even slightly meshed with that group but loved the pastor so much we stuck around till he left.  We are currently attending Emmanuel Community Church in Fort Wayne but don't see ourselves getting married there either.  We were thinking about outside but worry May 14th might not be warm enough and even if it was where would we do it?  We have no idea where.  Which totally sucks.  And with such late notice it's going to be a challenge to find something we both like, can afford, and works with May 14th.  STRESS!!!  Not to mention I have to continue working and school doesn't end till May 6th.  Yay for more stress!! 

It will work out though.  It has too.  Photographer and hair and makeup and catering already has.  I know the place will too. 

Please continue sending cards and e-mails to my parents.  I know they appreciate hearing from old (as in haven't talked to in awhile, not old in age) and new friends alike.  Thanks a million.

-Kristi