Late Thursday, I called my mom. Stephen had been out of town at a conference for 3 days and I needed to talk to someone. I called my mom and she barely answered the phone. I could tell she was upset but I thought maybe she was just really missing Piper who got married just a few days before. When I asked if that was it she didn't answer. I waited a few moments and nothing was uttered. I said, "well, I understand if you don't want to talk about it. But if you need an ear, I am here." To which she said she didn't know what she could share. And then my heart sunk. She went on, "you know how we thought dad had pneumonia? He has cancer." Neither of us could talk. We just cried and I tried to reassure her that it would be okay and God is in control.
The following day is when we found out more. My dad was diagnosed with stage IV kidney cancer which spread to the hip and the lungs. This was the hardest thing I have ever had to hear. I don't want to think of my dad in pain. I don't want to think of my siblings watching him go through treatment. I don't want to think of how my mom will cope. I don't want to think of whether my kids will continue to get to be "sacks of potatoes" heading out to the car. I don't want to think of not having my dad as a sounding wall that I go to any time I need wisdom or advice. I don't want to think of missing him. He's my dad. He's always been there. He is the leader in our family. He is the one that no matter what, is grounded in his faith and seems unshaken. He brings joy. He is selfless. He works harder than anyone I know. He is generous. He is loving. He's my dad.
My heart is breaking. I am processing. I don't understand why. I hate this.