Right now. In my little corner of my little universe, the saying, "Ignorance is bliss" is ever so very utterly true.
This is going to be a core dump, stream-of-consciousness because I am in shock. I am sad. I am afraid.
Mrs. Horse and I were chatting online about our planned shopping outing over the weekend. Mrs. Horse has not been told by myself or Super Dad that we are seeing each other, but Mrs. Horse knows. Super Dad and I both agree that she has figured it out.
Mrs. Horse moves the conversation from shopping strategy to Super Dad. I know where she is going. However, Mrs. Horse took a sharp left turn when she inquired as to how much I know about Super Dad's health. I tell her that he has shared snippets with me, like he had cancer many years ago and a surgery last year for pain stemming from the cancer surgery. Mrs. Horse proceeds to tell me that Super Dad is undergoing radiation again. They'll know in two weeks if the radiation worked again.
And it was with those two sentences that I have a myriad of emotions swirling around inside my body. Pieces of conversations Super Dad and I have had now make sense. He "told" me in small, undetectable ways. But always in past tense. I had no idea this was Super Dad's present.
What does this all mean? Now I understand why the recent rash of deaths have shaken him. I am also amazed at his strength because on the surface, the lake water is so calm, so smooth.
Mrs. Horse swore me to secrecy as he would be furious with her for telling me.
And so the world turns.