This is not a Funny One

People come to this blog for light relief. They come because it makes them laugh (and wee their pants in some cases - apparently) and lets them escape for a few brief moments from their own lives, which sometimes aren't all that happy (and sometimes are downright bloody hard).

Every now and again I have to write a post which won't make people laugh and which won't make people's day better and to be honest I hate doing it. It feels like I'm letting the side down and it's not why this blog is here. However - I need to be honest with you so you can understand what is going on with my life and why I might post a bit infrequently.

So it goes like this.

If life has taught me one thing (other than I can't decorate cakes and dead badgers are very heavy), it's that it is what happens when you are busy making other plans.

Case study to date include:

1. Holding your new baby in your arms and planning a cup of tea and a nice lie down only for life to decide that you're going to exit the building surfing a tidal wave of your own blood and, almost, straight to the mortuary.

and

2. Pushing a double buggy proudly round Tesco planning on dinner only for life to decide that before you can say 'I think I'll do something with anchovies' you'll actually find yourself having all your distinguishing marks recorded on a chart so they can admit you to a psychiatric unit and, if needs be, the police can identify you, dead or alive (my abiding memory of this was that the guy noted my build down as medium - if he'd put 'heavy' I might have really got mad).

and unfortunately the latest case study of:

3. Loads of really amazing people nominating you for 2 really cool blog awards and you thinking 'oh hell, how am I going to enjoy all this and do the publicity without my dad finding out!' only for life to.......

.....well for life to take your dad away in ambulance and then inform you that his very sudden loss of function is because he has a brain tumour. And not just any old brain tumour. One right in the middle of his brain which they can't really do much about and which looks to be highly aggressive. You know it's bad when they have to take you to a little private room. You know it's bad when the doctor can't meet your eyes and keeping fiddling with his thumbs and struggling to find the words. You know it's bad when the doctor tells you to 'prepare for the worst'.

Just like that. From fine to the stuff of nightmare in a few short days.

And overnight dreams turn to dust and the world keeps on spinning even though you're sure its actually stopped. You want to wake up and realise that none of this is true but you can't wake up because this is reality. Your new reality. Your dad's new reality. Your mum's new reality. Your brother's new reality. And the new reality of all his family, friends, colleagues and everyone else touched by him. And someone as big as my dad (both physically and in his character) touched a lot of people's lives.

I can't even tell you how I feel because I'm not sure I can actually feel. Well I can but it's odd. I am basically having to live with my mum to try and get her through the days (and nights) and everything is just a mess.

When my Grandma died in the autumn I said grief was like a moth, sitting quietly on the wall and waiting to flutter down into the light and clatter it's dusty wings across your face.

This is not a moth.

This is a panther.

It pads at your heels wherever you go and you know it's there, you can feel it's breath on your back and hear it breathing, but you dare not turn and look because you fear that if you meet its eyes it will push you to the ground, knock the breath from your lungs and destroy you.

And yet life goes on and do not fret, this blog will go on.

Sitting here reading some of my old posts last night was the first time I've felt vaguely normal in a week. I actually sat here laughing. LAUGHING. I never thought I'd laugh again. It's probably wrong to laugh at your own stuff but I don't care.

In the last 48 hours I've managed to:

- stand aside to let a man leave the hospital car park, only to position myself under the car park barrier so that it came down on my head, I mistook it for a swooping eagle or falling building and thus threw myself to the ground screaming 'ARRRGGHHH'. Having to get back up and smile at all the onlookers was even more cringeworthy.

- ground the car on top of a wall outside the school, balancing it like seesaw. Not good for the bodywork or the wall or my reputation.

- stand in a large, fresh, dog poo in flip flops (this I seriously do NOT recommend).

and

- fail to notice the toddler smuggling a packet of digestive biscuits into the bath. I wondered what the hell was going on when the water turned to gruel but it appears he was not aware of the concept of soggy biscuits. He is now.

So as you can see, whatever happens in my life, I am never short of blog fodder.

To my old fans and my new - I hope you can stick with me through this - I'm going to need to generate the laughs as much as you.

Life - sometimes it ain't half sh1t.

Tweet