Ok? Ok.

 “It will be ok.” 

No. It won’t be. 

This is a lie I am tired of hearing. I am tired of people offering it up to me like leftovers they don’t want. 

Nothing about a slow death is ok. It is agonizing for the person going through it and the people watching. 

All the things that make my Dad, my Dad, are gone. His body is an empty shell, betrayed by sin and decay and time. 

I am not ok. This is not ok. 

And it’s ok to say....it’s not ok. 

When Dean was younger and going through procedures nurses and doctors and well meaning people would say “You’re ok buddy. It’s ok. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” I hated it. I didn’t tell him that. I told him “It hurts for just a minute son. I know you don’t like it. I know it’s not ok.” 

Today grief hit me hard. I am once again left depleted and tired and weary and lonely. Sure sure I know I have a whole tribe and my mom and my siblings...it doesn’t matter. Grief is an island. I’m thankful for the visitors but in the end...people go on with their own lives. So many people asked me if I was ok today. Asked how I was doing...

What do you want me to say? “Just dandy yall, going about my life like my dad isn’t dying slowly nine hours away...” 

it’s not ok. That was my standard answer. 

I’m not ok. 

This is not ok. 

And it never will be.