A couple weeks ago, my brother came into town. The day he was leaving my dad hosted a lunch at his house.
As always happens when we're going to Grandpa's, the children were anxious all morning asking if it was time yet.
I talked to my dad the day before and asked what time. He said one. Or maybe one thirty. Or one. He had a doctor's appointment at twelve and thought he'd be home by one, but maybe make it one thirty to be safe.
We showed up at 1:30 and he wasn't back yet. My dad is notoriously late so no one was surprised. Everyone kept asking me what his doctor's appointment was for. A routine check-up, I guess, is what I told them.
Probably twenty minutes later, my dad got home. This is one of those things I will remember vividly forever, no matter how much I want to forget.
Everyone was sitting in the living room and I was in the kitchen looking in the cupboard for a sippy cup for Kendall. My grandma asked my dad what the doctor said. He hesitated. "Are you diabetic?" She asked. I got a sick feeling in my stomach and prayed he was not diabetic. He said, no, his sugars were great. "What is it then?" My grandma asked.
I'm sure we all know those people who are sick and complaining all the time. My dad is not one of them. I had no idea he was not feeling well. Even when he's coughing up a lung and can barely talk in a whisper he says, "it sounds worse then it is".
I have one memory of my dad being sick. He got an pneumonia when I was eleven. Even then, I think the only reason I remember is because my uncle was dying and my dad couldn't be around him.
I don't have a single memory of my dad ever taking a nap or even laying down to rest.
Every day and night, I just pray that he will not have to suffer. I guess that is not realistic, since he is already suffering to an extent both physically and emotionally, but that is my number one hope. Last night Dave gave him a really nice blessing.
As I read the Ensign this weekend, I love what Boyd K. Packer said, "...pray--always pray. An unseen power will hold your hand..."
And we've been doing a lot of praying. Right now is a hard time with too many questions and not enough answers.
This is what I know: Next week, my dad has two consultations to discuss his options. He will have surgery to remove the cancer. All of it. That is the only option.
Next July, my dad will beat me in the 10k, again.
Now she's Nine Months
10 months ago