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Just spoke with my aunt, whom I haven't seen or heard from in over 15 years; she's very upset (naturally) and we spent a good deal of time talking about what a hardass my dad can be. And then the conversation turned to how happy she is that I FINALLY got married and how RELIEVED I must be to FINALLY be married and on and on. This is a woman who, when I was little, used to comb my hair every time she saw me. And who would send my sister and I dresses for Christmas every year (we were California tomboys and most of the dresses sat unused save for the odd trip to church or a wedding). And who never understood why I would happily choose to live a large part of my adult life alone in a city "full of (non-white people)". Ack. Go away, Auntie.
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In two days we'll have a better handle on how long my dad has left. The best-case survival scenario for his type of cancer is 20-25% over five years. Because his was discovered in a relatively late stage, his odds are probably much worse than that. I'm going to keep my Chicago plans so that we can have a family pow-wow, then for the portion of my time off that S. and I would have been exploring West Texas, I'll be going to see my dad.
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When I spoke to him this morning, my dad told me again that he doesn't want to be a burden to his kids and I said, "Too late!". He laughed so hard he had to put the phone down for a minute to catch his breath. He also told me his girlfriend had offered to move in with him and he told her, "Dying of cancer is bad enough, living with someone again would make it worse." And he wasn't joking when he said it to her.
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Have I ever mentioned that my dad and I are a lot alike?
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