My Dad has cancer!

@#&^$, @#&$^, @*^&$! What am I suppose to say? I want to yell and scream. I want to cry and curse. I want, I want, I want. I am not going to get what I want on this one, that's for sure. Last Wednesday, my mom called. That was when I knew something was up. Usually, it's my dad who makes the calls. Not that my mom and I don't talk. We do. But, it's generally on special occassions that she is the one that makes the initial call. Usually, my dad would pass the phone to her. Not this time. And there was no special occassion, so I knew something was amiss. "Craig, dad has some lesions on his lungs. We're not sure what's up yet, but we'll find out more on Friday." I knew right then. I just knew. I have had a few friends die recently of cancer, and the description of what was going on with my dad just sounded all too familiar. The call on Friday simply confirmed what I already knew in my heart. It's official. My dad has cancer. It seems pretty serious, too. More tests are coming up, but it has already spread to both lungs. There are other factors too, that are coming into play. It's that things that aren't being said, the things that are giving clues to the seriousness of the problem. The less they say, (my parents I mean), the worse it is, I am sure. Besides, I am talking to other members of the family who are asking better questions and getting more information. It sounds as though he may have as much as a year to live, if all things go well. Could be more, could be much less. The thing is, I love my dad. he is an amzing man. Gentle, honest, and decent. He lives to be a husband, father, and teacher, especially husband. Honoring ones wife, my dad could teach classes on that. He has been married to my mother for 44 years, pretty amazing. He's only 66 years old. The thing is, for the most part we know we're going to out live our parents, sure that's a given. But, CANCER, damn it! It is just a really crappy way to go, if you have choice. There are no talks of remission, of surgery to remove the cancer, just the hope of kemotherapy to add some days, some time. What do I do now? I live in Oregon. He lives in L.A. I just recently got my life in order, got a job, got married, got my stuff together, you know. He just retired, desiring to spend his golden years enjoying the company of his one true love in retired marital bliss. Seems that's going to be cut short. How do I love him? How do I support him? We have a much more limited opportunity now. Bear with me. I am really bummed. I am a bit confused. And I know that the coming months are not about me at all. They're about him. How do I show the love of Christ to him before he leaves? It will come to me I am sure. This blog will be just a small part of the process. I love you Dad.