I've just hung up the phone - got the call from my dad. His cancer is back. The sounds of my daycare kiddies snoring, the soft whirring of the furnace - it's all stopped and all I can hear are remanents of that phone call. "Cancer....lymph nodes....terminal."
He has been fighting cancer for the last 4 1/2 years. Before my dad's cancer - I'd only known cancer as my grandmothers had it - fast, ferocious and deadly. They both discovered and lost their battle with it quickly. So when Dad got it - I was sure it was the end for him.
But he fought and won against colon cancer, liver cancer, and lung cancer. Each time, he kicked it's ass. Each time, he got to his "one year cancer free" anniversarry before they discovered a new cancer in a new area.
He went for a regular scan a few months ago - they saw a spot on his kidney...and I thought "here we go again" but it turned out to just be a scar....they looked closer though.
It's in his lymph nodes.
One year to live.
Suddenly I'm reminded of my aunt's batttle. I want to scream and cry. I want to punch someone. I want to melt into a puddle of tears and wallow in my grief.
But I don't have time. I don't have the time for sorrow - I've only got what time he's got left, and I don't want to spend it in tears and sadness.
He doesn't want me to tell my kids yet, but I'm not so sure. I remember my grandmothers - , they quickly transformed into unrecognizable husks of the strong women I knew. I don't want to wait until then to tell them...but when is the right time?
The older two are old enough to get it....my youngest, not so much. Tonight is their Winter Concert...next week is my middle son's birthday...after that it's holidays with family....there seems to be no good time.
I want to hold them and protect them from this horrible disease. I want to and to be there for my dad. I want to stop all the pain.
But for now, I just do my best to hold myself together and pretend everything is okay.
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