I talked to my dad tonight. We have done that more and more since we found out in May that mom has cancer. Some have been the hard talks that this knowledge simply demands. Non-small cell stage four lung cancer has only one outcome. There are feeling and details that needed to be talked out, and through, because not doing so only makes the end harder.
So when I saw I missed a call from pops I called him back with a small amount of trepidation. I had caught him just coming in, with mom and the dogs, from a short visit down to the river. The dogs were being dogs so he needed to get them inside which takes both hands and a small army. He said he would call me back. Since mom was with him, and the dogs, I felt a weight lift because I knew it’s not That Call. This is a good thing.
The phone rings several minutes later and the first words out of his mouth are, well, unexpected. He said he had been reading my blog. Really? Dad never showed much interest in this side of my life before so I am strangely pleased and uneasy at the same moment. Strange way to feel some of you must be thinking but there is a reason and it is this: My dad has worked hard all his life to give us one. So when he came to practice or showed up at a game I was in I knew that was a big sacrifice. He always in those rare but wonderful times had nothing but encouraging words for me. I knew he did not understand the game really or even why it mattered to me. It was simply just that: It mattered to me. And I felt a deep joy in those moments.
The next words out of his mouth was ” Son you got a way with words.” And I felt a deep joy I have not felt during this season of life. The words of encouragement and praise make my glad. Even now.