One.day.at.a.time

Those words--the title of my blog--never have had the meaning that they now do.  (I want to start by saying I have the settings so no one in my family can see this.)  Today, my dad got his second cancer diagnosis, and I don't feel "good" about this one.  Maybe it's because he's 89 this time instead of 84; maybe it's because it was found in a lymph node, and cancer does not begin there.  That means we don't know where it is at this time.  We are waiting on a referral to my oncologist here in Beaufort and the one Dad went to before.

I was diagnosed with colon cancer at age 44; four years later Dad was diagnosed at age 84.  He had it much easier than I did because he had a flat tumor on the wall of the colon.  He was out of the hospital on the sixth day and mowing his lawn the following week.  He didn't need chemo or radiation.

Tonight I came home and took a hot bath.  I do a lot of crying in the bathtub.  All of my makeup is off by then, and it's cleansing to let the tears fall where they may.  I don't know what I will do when my dad does leave me, whether by this cancer or whatever means.  I truly don't know what I will do or how I will go on.  I know I will have to, but I sure don't know how I will.

One.day.at.a.time---truly this is how we all should approach life and its trials.  Life is precious, and none of us know if today will be our last on this earth.