My dad was given 5-6 months to live as a result of stage four lung cancer. There is no cure or treatment that will make this disappear. He has chosen to not do chemotherapy treatments. Here’s the thing, he’s doing okay for today and doesn’t want to talk about his future. The doc says he might surpass the average lifespan. I needed to learn really quickly that while I’m capable and eager to discuss this process with him and help him access his feelings about it and able to write his bucket list and get all his affairs in order, I don’t. It’s not for lack of trying and going there - occasionally, but he just doesn’t want to stay in that vein of conversation for any great length. Maybe two minutes, if that. I honor him and push aside the pink elephant in the room, and say, “wow, ten inches of snow in New York!” I am letting him be and talking about the simple things of life and taking my conversations about death, dying and the like elsewhere. When he’s ready, he’ll say what he needs to say or he will die without saying it and I will have to deal with that. In the meantime, I’m in the moment with him, feeling his alive presence and not diving too deep unless invited. I’m talking about the wood carvings he’s made, looking at old photos, laughing about his childhood, listening to tales of fishing and his rigging days. In other words, keeping it light. We both know the silver lining on the clouds may be melting a bit into rain soon, but for right now we are all about the silver… and the sunny days.
