T-Plus 367.
We ended up in Orlando this year. We are beach people, so inland is a little weird.
We got on the dad-might-die! kick and decided we would help fulfill his dream of seeing the space shuttle take off. It's supposed to be fantastic to watch.
You see, what Dad really wants is to fly IN the space shuttle, and that costs about 20 million dollars, and they've got Sutent (and family vacations!)to buy instead.
So we're in Orlando. 367 days after he got The Rotten Kidney cut out. NASA cancelled the shuttle lauch WITHOUT consulting us. We're having oreos instead.
And now... my symbolic prose juxtaposed to real-life pictures to make said pictures more interesting and um, symbolic. Yeah.
I started this post on Tuesday of last week. I can't come up with the proper reparte to sit by this awesome trilogy.
I was going to say something about jumping in, and trust, and riding the wave, and and the ripple effect of everyone on everyone else, etc...etc...
But I'm tired of it. Really tired of it.
Blah blah blah. Back up. If you look at your life in still-shots, you miss the view- because it's all out of context. Watch the movie instead. This movie isn't about cancer. It's about my Dad doing a cannonball. He happens to have cancer.
Love, Erv
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Hmmm
Sam and Lish went to get their kids from the "other" grandparents this weekend. They stopped thru at the house for a rest stop and a visit. It didn't hit me until they were gone.
They made the same trip last year. They were about 45 minutes out of Fayetteville when we got the call. So an hour after we knew our dad got The Cancer, we were all able to go stuff our faces with cheese dip and drink beer. It's what we do.
Around that table, we agreed that:
1. We wouldn't treat him like a freak
2. We would keep eachother informed
3. Rachel and I drink more beer than we should
4. Alicia knows alot more about molecular chemistry than she should
5. Matt and Shaun have, unfortunately, lived this thru, and they have excellent insight.
So we're here a year later. Some days it feels like everything has changed, then other days it feels like nothing has. We leave for Orlando in two weeks. I was right, about a year ago, when I said that the beach is our reset point. And a year from back then, I predicted that Dad would have been on Sutent for a year and his hair would be all white. Damn, I'm good. Not really. I've always been a wee bit psychic ( no, really, I am)and not knowing that Dad had a Rotten Kidney really pissed me off. I shoulda caught it at an earlier stage.
So Happy Day-You-Figure-Out-What-You'll-Probably-Die-Of-Day, Dad! That was rude, huh? . But it's the truth. You know you've thought of it. Morbid yes, but one of my favorite things to ask people.
I think I'll go choking on a big piece of meat. Just a hunch. That's why I don't eat meat alone. Really.
Love, EAB
They made the same trip last year. They were about 45 minutes out of Fayetteville when we got the call. So an hour after we knew our dad got The Cancer, we were all able to go stuff our faces with cheese dip and drink beer. It's what we do.
Around that table, we agreed that:
1. We wouldn't treat him like a freak
2. We would keep eachother informed
3. Rachel and I drink more beer than we should
4. Alicia knows alot more about molecular chemistry than she should
5. Matt and Shaun have, unfortunately, lived this thru, and they have excellent insight.
So we're here a year later. Some days it feels like everything has changed, then other days it feels like nothing has. We leave for Orlando in two weeks. I was right, about a year ago, when I said that the beach is our reset point. And a year from back then, I predicted that Dad would have been on Sutent for a year and his hair would be all white. Damn, I'm good. Not really. I've always been a wee bit psychic ( no, really, I am)and not knowing that Dad had a Rotten Kidney really pissed me off. I shoulda caught it at an earlier stage.
So Happy Day-You-Figure-Out-What-You'll-Probably-Die-Of-Day, Dad! That was rude, huh? . But it's the truth. You know you've thought of it. Morbid yes, but one of my favorite things to ask people.
I think I'll go choking on a big piece of meat. Just a hunch. That's why I don't eat meat alone. Really.
Love, EAB
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)