Fathers Day

Many layers of grief, worry and sadness on this day. Missing my Dad, coming to terms with who he was, and wrestling still with the leftovers of that relationship and how even today I see myself struggle with commitment, love and belief that I am loved. All of that has an impact on my life with John.

For John too. Missing his Dad, sadness over his kids anger at him, hoping they will get it that he had to leave their mother to save his own life. But they are kids—men really—but with our parents are we ever not still kids?

But I have another layer of fear and sadness on this day. I worry about cancer too and how it might colors father’s day in years to come. Yes, cancer. I do the countdown in my head. I know the stats and they haunt me. He is well, yes. Beat the odds? We hope so. My deep fear for his kids is that someday they will have regrets over having missed the last three years of John's life--out of pride or because they wanted to  make a point or they could not let go the grip of man-to-man testosterone-fueled “rightness”. I have anticipatory grief for them and I wish time to fly so they can catch up before it is too late.

Visiting Mom

This weekend we visited John’s Mom. She hasn’t seen him since summer so it was a chance to reassure her that he is mostly okay. I really saw that she is a mother looking at her child and worrying about his health and his life. I see him as a 57-year-old man and for a bit I forget that is not what he is to her. This is her sweet boy. Her husband died of cancer, her best friend died of cancer and her son has cancer. She doesn’t say any of this and she is careful in the questions that she asks, but I saw a mother looking at her child and her child has cancer.