It started about a week before Christmas with a phone call. It was the middle of our family dinner, but I checked the phone anyway. The caller ID had my Dad and stepmother’s phone number in Tennessee and I picked up.
My greeting was met with the southern drawl of my stepmother, Sharon. In a level, steady voice she proceeded to lay out the circumstances of the last few weeks. Concerns about test results and subsequent biopsies that my father had recently had done. Finally she said the official diagnosis, the dreaded C word. Cancer.
The long term prognosis is good. But there are hurdles to get there. The largest of which comes tomorrow. Early tomorrow morning my father will undergo surgery at Vanderbilt in Tennessee. Hopefully the recovery will go easily.
For months now I have been preparing emotionally for this. I am still struggling. This has brought about the realization that my father lives far, far away now. That he will, Lord willing, grow old there. And I am a New Yorker. So very far away.
He is a pastor and we have faith in our Father’s perfect plan. In all things my family offers up prayer. The good, the bad and the ugly. So I ask that you pray for my father, and my family, tomorrow.
My sister, myself, Dad and my brother.