Sunday, June 28, 2009

The Art of Survival

My dad is someone who doesn't realize his own age; a great giver of obvious advice; a philosopher of not-so-obvious-things; a man you can tell anything and he will at least listen even if he does not agree; a fabulous telemark skier and a patient teacher of tele skiing to those who aren't so great; a talented craftsman; a subtle artist; a master in the art of self-deprecating humor; and a great dad who became great by trial and error (probably like most other great dads of his nature).

Sometimes I forget how amazing he really is...


His girlfriend/best friend/adventure-seeking-fireball (a.k.a. Judy) painted this picture of him before any of us knew he had cancer. Suddenly the image is the perfect symbolic of the journey he is now on.





He started chemo last Friday.


Dad's whirlwind diagnosis and subsequent treatment has been a punch to the solar plexus. We are still gasping for air. But, as he is one of the functioning parts of our strange little family amoeba, we are all now in this together.


Except he has to do the hard part.

1 comment:

  1. Sorry to hear about your dad. Hope he pulls through.

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