Day 100

The poet Dean Young wrote: You start with a darkness to move through but sometimes the darkness moves through you. Occasionally, I feel this anger well up in me, in response to the Bill's cancer. Sometimes it is directed at Bill, sometimes it is directed at the blanket left in the living room after a nap, sometimes it is directed at the woman who sits behind the counter at the lab and chats with a friend while we sit waiting for yet another blood draw. It is almost never directed at the cancer. The cancer, after all, is deaf and indifferent. I suppose I am angry at my own powerlessness. I couldn't make my dad stop drinking, I couldn't heal the fractured mind of my first husband and I can't cure Bill's cancer. I am utterly powerless and it really pisses me off.