Terminal. Malignant. Inoperable. Words that I can not quite bare to utter.
These words have been used to describe what is happening inside his frail body. I've never thought of dad as frail. He isn't a big man, but was always larger than life in my eyes. But his liver has finally checked out after many, many years of living a bit too wild. He cleaned up his act, just a little too late.
Tomorrow, we will set out on a 12 hour drive and I will be forced to make the kind of decisions that I was sure I had years to prepare myself for. But we can do this, because that's how we're built. Daddy always taught me to 'maintain', only fret about the things you can control, and more than anything, make the most of today. We will do that. In the meantime, prayers for his comfort and my strength would be greatly appreciated.
