I wrote this blog post last week as I knew I would be busy today, as Lisa is having surgery to remove her baby making cocoon, not the medical name. I call it this because I use humour to make things easier when I am uneasy about things that make me nervous. I know that these type surgeries happen everyday all over the world and we have the very best doctors and nurses, so I should feel at ease. Problem is my heart and head often fight it out and my heart tends to over power that part of my brain best known for reasoning.
The problem is that last night we watched The Notebook with a few of the kids and if you haven't seen it I will simply say it is a story of two people who love each other very much and ends with tears. The kids always love it when dad cries, cause to them it's like "Look at the big viking crying like a baby". I don't cry often, but tragic love stories tend to be my kryptonite. When I was looking up information on the movie, one website said a tragic love story, which all love stories are since they inevitably all end in death eventually. Thanks internet, if you don't know already...you're a jerk.
Part of it is my approach to almost everything in life. While Lisa is the optimist, who believes things will turn out for the best and even when it doesn't there is a silver lining, I am not. I tend to imagine the very worst possible outcome, and I figure if I do that then I can handle anything that happens cause it will either be as I imagined or better than I imagined. So today my thoughts will be on how my wife will tragically die from wolves that manage to get into the hospital and when I go home to share the sad news with my children they will all be gone because of alien abduction.
The truth is I'm the third generation, I know of, that tend to be worriers and expect the worst in my family. Today I break that trend and will imagine the very best result. Lisa gets to go home today, as she miraculously was healed immediately after the surgery. I can't forget the best part, they discovered that her uterus is actually made out of gold and so we get to go home with some health issues resolved, zero chance of babies and we are now rich thanks to the golden uterus that lays golden eggs...almost forgot that important detail. At this point you are most likely thinking this guy is nuts and has lost his marbles, but the truth is I'm just an ordinary guy with nerves of jello.