To my daughter,
I spent my 40th birthday in the ER at Baylor when they told me he was going to die. I spent my 25th anniversary doing the same thing, he had a 106 temp and I whispered in his ear "Doc says you're gonna die. You gonna make a merry widow out of me?" and then there was that time in San Antonio with the 106 temp and they were amazed that he survived. In 1994 they said he had two years left. I was 35 with four small children. Talk about stressed out, especially with the extended family that was local who thought it was fun to put others down.
I am watching him every day now and I don't have sisters to talk to like you. I have been dreaming of how the cancer ate my father. I remember the last time the medics came and took him away. I ran around and generally stayed out of the way as they brought the heavy leather padded stretcher in and made sure he was comfortable. He had striped pajamas and looked like a refugee from Buchenwald.
Rush Limbaugh ate my other father before the cancer took him.