Well, my friends, our journey has taken a turn for the painful. I have no quips. I have no jokes. I have no silver linings to what I'm about to tell you.
Last week, after a decline in Ken's health, his doctor suggested we enroll him for hospice care. She said further treatment to his brain would likely harm him further, and prolong his life in a state where he'd likely not recognize his children, or suffer from hallucinations. It was a kick in the gut, for sure.
It's been a bit, well...awful, around here. Kenny's family and I continue to do our best to pull together and do what we can for Kenny and the kids. We've had to had some conversations a parent should never have to have about their child, and a young(ish) wife should never have to have about the father of her very young babies. But we know that "should" and "shouldn't" isn't the way of life. We all get up every day, take turns with who's dressing the kids, who's making school lunch, who's making meals, who's running to grab groceries, etc. I can't even say we take it day by day...we take it hour by hour, and sometimes minute by minute on the tougher days. I've started reading the books and articles that I always hoped I'd never have to. I've had to start treading carefully with my words around the kids, who sense that something is wrong and that no one is talking to them about it (which I plan to remedy once I figure out what the fuck I'm going to say to them). It's the kind of existence where you, at times, get in ache in your chest and realize you've forgotten to breathe. Yes...there are literally moments that I need to remind myself to breathe.
But still, we forge onward. In that alone, I'm proud of us. Of Kenny's parents, of me, of our kids...we don't always (or even most of the time) have it together, but we still get up every day.
As always friends, please keep my dude and our family in your prayers. Thank you <3