When things start...

We've all heard the expression that goes on about bad things snowballing into more bad things. The whole 'when it rains, it pours' adage that everyone refers to. I guess it works for good things too.

1. I get a job, a nice, laid-back, flexible job. I enjoy working. I also enjoy the time off I get to spend time with my family.

2. Husband took the test he needed to take in order to get a job that he's trying to get. And he passed! Onto the next step.

In fact, in the past couple of weeks, things have gone really well for the most part. Which is awesome. Except for the fact that I'm waiting for when the ball drops.

I guess tonight was that night. My Dad had a heart attack. And I'm scared to death.

Dad is still stubborn, I found out. He was complaining about how he wanted to go home and that it was no big deal. He sent my mom home and everything and then called to tell her he was staying over night. Mom called me to let me know, and I'm dying to go down there.

Unfortunately, there is no one else available to work the night shift, so I can't drop everything and go down there.

Husband is going on about how my father is old, and these things can happen. But he's fine, so I need to stop worrying. I have my reasons about worrying.

On January 6, 2012, a woman who was pretty much my second mother died after having open heart surgery. She had been having heart complications since September of 2010, and was just getting worse. She was also on dialysis and was a diabetic. She was Little Miss' best friend, and my favorite aunt. She even took me in when I had no where else to go, despite how messed up my past had made me and the fact that we could argue like cats and dogs. And now she's gone.

She'll never call me to ask her to take her to Wal-Mart. We'll never go out to eat at Guadalajara or Cheeseburger in Paradise. She'll never teach Little Miss new songs and take naps with her in the afternoon or a million other little things that I took for granted while she was here.

I'm still reeling from her death. I find myself crying randomly, and getting snippy with some people. Am I depressed? More than likely.

I feel selfish that I don't want my father to die because I don't want to have to go through this situation all over again. I probably am selfish in thinking that I don't know if I could handle it.

Am I terrible for thinking this? Am I selfish? A horrible daughter?

Who knows.