Sometimes, Good Things Can Happen When Cancer Comes To Call

Phone rang this morning.

It was my dad.  He was calling to let me know he’d talked with a couple of men this morning at a men’s breakfast who both expressed an interest in ordering my latest book. He sounded excited.

Pause.

Growing up, we were not a family that expressed affection outwardly toward one another. Not until my mom was diagnosed with cancer in her mid 40’s that decades old patterns began to change…ever so slowly.

I was already out of the house, married and starting a family, so we were all pretty set in our ways.  Intellectually I knew they loved me by that point, but to this day, it still feels just a little weird to voice it…but we’re working on it.

I’ve mentioned this before, but my wife’s family was (and still is) a bunch of huggers.

Both of her parents passed away in their early 60’s…way to young. More than once my wife  will  voice, she wished her mom (or dad) was still alive to share in one of our kids’ weddings, or  birth of a new grand child, etc.

No matter how old I am, there is still a part of me that is a little boy, who wants to make his parents proud.

Heck, when I was 48 and got injured on the job, heading to the hospital in an ambulance, I wanted my mommy….it was  a really random feeling, that came out of nowhere, and it was strong.

I am thankful for the level of intimacy I do enjoy with my parents.

Pretty sure things would not have changed, had cancer not paid a visit.

It is never to late to start trying.

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5 thoughts on “Sometimes, Good Things Can Happen When Cancer Comes To Call

  1. DM, you’re right, it’s never too late. Sometimes, sadly, it takes an illness, or a brush with death to bring about a change of direction. Each of us can be an agent of change.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You know, thanks for saying that… My family sounds similar. Especially between my mom and brother. (parents divorced when I was maybe 5? Idk. My mom had main custody.) Between my mom and brother, it’s usually we get done what needs to be done. But once my brother laughed at me shaking his hand goodbye. The next time leaving, I hugged him and it felt weird, but I could tell he appreciated it.
    I’ve told you about my wreck, and it made me worry about little things less and appreciate people more, but it’s still difficult to tell them. Like I said, we’ve always survived by our get-shtufff-done-itude. Not by our hugging.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Oh, you are so right. It’s twenty years ago (May) since my Dad died, and I wish I had gone back that Wednesday tevening o hug him and tell him how much I loved him. He had a massive heart attack on the Thursday, never regaining consciousness. It wasn’t as if we never hugged or showed affection, but that was the last time I could have, and should have, and now I can’t. When I see my Mum, I hug her, tight and long, and tell her I love her. She’s 94 and has dementia. Hubby and I are affectionate towards each other, ‘I love you’ is the first thing he tells me in the morning and the last thing he says at night. Likewise me to him.

    Liked by 1 person

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