All alone

It's hard not to miss my dad today, as I've been home alone and entertaining myself by reading on Facebook how my friends and family are celebrating Father's Day. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that so many people get to spend the day honoring their loved ones and having fun. I hope my family is doing the same.

Eleven years. That's a lot of life my dad wasn't able to share with me. I'm sure he's been keeping his on me from heaven, but I wish he were here to experience what my life is like as an adult. I doubt he would share in my thrills of the city and the political realm I'm surrounded by, but I know he would be happy to see that this is what makes me happy.

One of the bosses in my office recently experienced the death of her second mother. This was a woman who gave her her first job and believed that she would one day become a very successful lobbyist. This boss had a conversation with the woman's actual daughter while at work this week and she totally broke down. I was unsure of how to react or respond, but I just offered her a hug and let her say whatever she needed to. Death of loved ones is always tough. It's helpful to rely on those around you to keep you going, but unfortunately I don't have anyone to offer me that hug now. I'm looking forward to church later, because this being alone stuff is not good today.

I've also been thinking a lot about my friend Jenny this past week. We learned that her tumors are growing and her doctors are telling her that we have to look at her cancer as a treatable disease rather than a curable one. We briefly heard this statement before she changed her chemo drugs, but dismissed the thoughts because we still had alternative treatment plans. Those plans are running low and those words are not as ignorable any more. Jenny may seek a second opinion from a doctor in NYC, but she's already seen some of the best doctors in the country. We continue to keep her in our prayers and hope for a miraculous recovery, but the reality of the situation is extremely trying. My roommate shared many more experiences with Jenny while in college together and living in Bethesda together for a few months, so she's taking this even harder than me. It's difficult providing any sort of comfort when I struggle with handling the reality of it all myself. If only we could make it disappear. Please keep Jenny in your thoughts and prayers for me, as she needs them now more than ever.

Sorry for such a serious blog on what is meant to be a joyous day with family. Appreciate all of your blessings, as you never know what lies ahead tomorrow.