Life vs TV
Oh Life, how you have betrayed me...
Sorry, just had to get that out. That phrase has been stuck in my bloomin 'ead all day. Know what else has?
"Rain", by Jon Heintz.
It was the song played at the end of last night's episode of Deadliest Catch, as Josh Harris flew to be by his brother Jake's side as they watched over their father Phil in the hospital. My heart broke for them, not only because I felt like I was with them, part of the family, but because I totally understood what they were going through. I lost my father suddenly about a year and a half ago. He'd had cancer, and the doctors had thought he'd finally been making a turn for the better, and then suddenly he's sick and in the hospital and we're lost and then he might be getting better but then... Poof. He was gone. I know it's gonna be hard to watch the next few episodes. I know the pain of standing by that hospital bed, holding a cool, calloused hand and saying soft words, praying silently that a miracle will happen, but knowing it might not. You keep holding out hope, and then in a matter of minutes it's gone. It's over. My heart goes out to Jake and Josh and all the Harris kids, because they dont have an easy road ahead of them. But from what I've seen and read the last few days, they seem to be doing okay. That's all you can be, really. You'll never be truly good anymore, as there will always be that tiny part of you that acknowledges the little hole, the vague emptiness in a part of your life. But you learn to ignore it, to accept it, and it stops being your focus at least. Change happens in an instant, and lasts forever. But you can't fight the change, or ignore it. Accept it and move on. Learn from it what you can.
Wow. Being morbid is fun. Note the sarcasm? Meanwhile, back on the on Bering Sea front....
I was so moved when Johnathan Hillstrand appeared at the airport to drive Josh to the hospital. I didn't really understand how close he and Phil were until that clip from After the Catch, when Johnathan was so emotional he had to leave the table. It's so easy to look at these manly, macho men of the sea and think they aren't touched, they aren't broken. But I was so glad to see him there with the boys, looking over them. He used to annoy me a bit but now I see him in a new light, I guess. Same for Sig Hansen. His utter shock and bewilderment when he found out about Phil, followed by his anger, was so intense to watch. When he picked up his cigarettes and GLARED at them, growled at them, and THREW them across the room? I couldn't help but smile and think that maybe, at least, Phil might save a few of his friends, give them a couple more years to be with their families, give them what he couldn't give his own.
I even read in the late night hours of last night that both Josh and Jake have totally changed their outlook on their health. Both have quit smoking, and Josh is heading an effort to get people to quit. Seems they got it, I guess. They've accepted the change, and they're moving on with what their father left them. The change will linger on their skin, like an invisible tattoo. They'll feel it from time to time, tight and irritating, with rough patches that linger longer than they'd like. But like an uglyass tattoo, you learn to live with it.
*Please forgive the author's rambling. It's now 4 am and she's tired but refusing to go to bed. Little idiot.
Sorry, just had to get that out. That phrase has been stuck in my bloomin 'ead all day. Know what else has?
"Rain", by Jon Heintz.
It was the song played at the end of last night's episode of Deadliest Catch, as Josh Harris flew to be by his brother Jake's side as they watched over their father Phil in the hospital. My heart broke for them, not only because I felt like I was with them, part of the family, but because I totally understood what they were going through. I lost my father suddenly about a year and a half ago. He'd had cancer, and the doctors had thought he'd finally been making a turn for the better, and then suddenly he's sick and in the hospital and we're lost and then he might be getting better but then... Poof. He was gone. I know it's gonna be hard to watch the next few episodes. I know the pain of standing by that hospital bed, holding a cool, calloused hand and saying soft words, praying silently that a miracle will happen, but knowing it might not. You keep holding out hope, and then in a matter of minutes it's gone. It's over. My heart goes out to Jake and Josh and all the Harris kids, because they dont have an easy road ahead of them. But from what I've seen and read the last few days, they seem to be doing okay. That's all you can be, really. You'll never be truly good anymore, as there will always be that tiny part of you that acknowledges the little hole, the vague emptiness in a part of your life. But you learn to ignore it, to accept it, and it stops being your focus at least. Change happens in an instant, and lasts forever. But you can't fight the change, or ignore it. Accept it and move on. Learn from it what you can.
Wow. Being morbid is fun. Note the sarcasm? Meanwhile, back on the on Bering Sea front....
I was so moved when Johnathan Hillstrand appeared at the airport to drive Josh to the hospital. I didn't really understand how close he and Phil were until that clip from After the Catch, when Johnathan was so emotional he had to leave the table. It's so easy to look at these manly, macho men of the sea and think they aren't touched, they aren't broken. But I was so glad to see him there with the boys, looking over them. He used to annoy me a bit but now I see him in a new light, I guess. Same for Sig Hansen. His utter shock and bewilderment when he found out about Phil, followed by his anger, was so intense to watch. When he picked up his cigarettes and GLARED at them, growled at them, and THREW them across the room? I couldn't help but smile and think that maybe, at least, Phil might save a few of his friends, give them a couple more years to be with their families, give them what he couldn't give his own.
I even read in the late night hours of last night that both Josh and Jake have totally changed their outlook on their health. Both have quit smoking, and Josh is heading an effort to get people to quit. Seems they got it, I guess. They've accepted the change, and they're moving on with what their father left them. The change will linger on their skin, like an invisible tattoo. They'll feel it from time to time, tight and irritating, with rough patches that linger longer than they'd like. But like an uglyass tattoo, you learn to live with it.
*Please forgive the author's rambling. It's now 4 am and she's tired but refusing to go to bed. Little idiot.