In 2010, my father passed away after a long battle with radiation, chemo, and throat cancer. Today, I am sharing a story about my father. __________
I spent the night with my parents, something I haven't done in years, despite living in the same city. I showed up, unexpectedly on a Saturday afternoon. My mom, peaking through the picture window, had the front door open before I even cut my car off.
After some trouble swallowing even the softest of foods, she called me last week to tell me about the "abnormal mass" in his throat.
I walked in to see an older version of my dad. In just a few weeks, his body had shrunk to a 40 year-old version of his former self...twenty-five pounds lighter. His voice and sense of humor...exactly the same.
In between laughs, scrabble, dinner, and breakfast, we discussed my parents' funeral wishes, in case that time ever creeps up on me. My laugh, my smile...did not match the sadness and agony I experienced during a conversation characterized by hymns, caskets, burial plots, ashes, and obituaries.
I returned home to a text from my dad, an incredible feat for a sixty-five year-old man:
"Thanks for your help, both yesterday and today. I love you. Let's do it again some other time."