Oooooohhh! It's so late!!!

WHAT AM I DOING???

Everyone in my house is asleep. I never do this, but something urged me to get out of bed to read my sister, Amber's blog. Amber lived with us last semester and always talked about Xanga, and me being the illiterate blogger - I had no idea what in the world she was talking about. She could be speaking martian for all I knew.

So, Amber, if you are reading this, I read your blog.

I think it was the second blog that made me cry. And then one of the last ones where you were so concerned about my health when I was pregnant with Bryson. :) That was really nice considering how I was such a B- to you when you lived here. I am telling you it was the hormones.

Well, for those of you who don't know us very well, my sister and I both deny problems but in very different ways. Amber gets it all out in the beginning, and then refuses to talk about it afterwards. I, on the other hand, pretend like it isn't happening all together.

My mimi, (MY MIMI, Amber) has lung cancer. It's not enough that she has lung cancer, though. That can be treated. I found out today through my sister, Amber's tears that she also has congestive heart failure. Ugh. My heart just leapt into my throat "saying" that out loud. I am perfectly fine pretending this isn't happening, you see.

My brain, even as I sit here, can not wrap itself around a world without her in it. I don't want to be here. My grandmother is a devout Church of Christ go-er (is that right?) She was SO concerned about my fate as a human early on in my life. When my parent's were too involved in themselves, she cared. She cared enough to let me spend the night with her anytime I wanted. To be there when I got my wisdom teeth out and spoon feed me jello while it oozed out of my mouth uncontrollably, she was there at all of my band concerts, she was there right after both of my sons were born, even though it was taxing on her to make the drive, she was there for me when I was sick and needed her to come get me from school. She was there even though my dad never has been. MY MIMI has always been there.

Why have I stopped going to see her as often as I should? Is it because I can't bear to think of her in any other way than how she was in my happy memories of her?
I have heard of people coping in this way, I just never thought I would be so selfish.

And someday, more than likely very soon, she is going to be gone.

I think if I start thinking about this too much I will start crying and never stop. Good night.