Anyway, the terrible news is that another person close to my family was diagnosed with cancer. This gentleman was a neighbor and a surrogate grandfather figure to N. They often mowed the lawn together. They'd hang and watch Sesame Street and eat M&Ms and Kit-Kat bars.
The saddest part about this is that they are not treating it because they cannot. He most likely will not live beyond a few more months. I'm tearing up thinking of this. I'm sad for his wife. I'm sad for his family. I'm sad for my son. I'm sad for him. I will most likely need to explain to my son where this man is going and what will happen to him. All N knows so far is that he is "very very sick and he can't come home yet from the hospital". This is the first time he'll face death that he'll most likely remember it. While N has been to one funeral already, he was quite young at that one and the overwhelming sadness at that one led P to quickly take him to the children's room so that N could play away from people suffering from grief. I feel guilty because I expect P will have to take this conversation. I cry too easily and I think that would further upset our son.
I will miss this man and I already miss his daily presence. It used to be on a slow day, we'd hop over to their house and him and N would hang for an hour while his wife and I chatted about food and books and children, or we'd all hang out on the front porch while N drove his Power Wheels around. He was abrupt and brunt and generous and fond of N. I hope the rest of his life is awesome. I also hope for a miracle and that he punches cancer in the face. I kind of hope for the latter more, to tell you the truth.
Sad, but kind of funny thought for the day: For the previous two years, a family of ducks has come and lived in our neighbor's bushes. I'm now totally peeved at this duck that it didn't come and live in their yard this year. You couldn't have given the family that much, duck?!