getting older actually kind of sucks.

Last night my dear friend JT texted me saying he'd come home from Alabama to discover his mom was recovering from surgery to remove a lump on her breast. I assume they haven't biopsied it to find out whether or not it's benign, but it's a scary thought anyway. It brought back memories of my dad's kidney shunt when they thought his pain had to do with that; memories of him asking me to check it and make sure it was still in his back okay. It hit me in the very way learning that my dad had to go see an oncologist hit me. Memories of the night we were to find out the results of Dad's liver biopsy and me asking Mom if they knew, resulting in her breaking down into tears, and I knew the answer - those hit me too.

Six months to a year with chemotherapy. With chemotherapy. Is 'therapy' really an appropriate prefix to put to this?

Ever since Dad passed away, and even before then, I kept thinking, "I'm too young to be a half-orphan. I'm too young to lose my father. He's supposed to walk me down the aisle, to be in the waiting room when I'm in labor with my first child, to be the grandfather who shows his grandchildren what he showed me in my childhood - how to paint properly, how to check the oil in the car, how to play chess." And, honestly, aside from the cancer, he was in great health, and only fifty-three. I don't consider fifty-three to be old, but cancer doesn't choose ages. Children die from leukemia and other cancers everyday. Why should Dad be exempted? My mom, forty-eight, kept saying, "I'm too young to be a widow."

It will never feel like Dad was fifty-three. To me, he'll always be thirty-five. Same with my mom. She will never feel old to me - yes, she is getting older, but to me, she'll always be the thirty-year-old I visioned her as even as a child, when she was only a few years older than thirty. The truth of the matter is that our generation is getting older. I'm a nominal adult now, and in little more than a year, I'll be twenty. I was young to lose my father, yes, but whether or not he was too young to lose a battle with cancer, he was getting older, and the threat of bad health grows with every year.

I hope beyond hope that JT's mother will be okay. Their whole family is so incredibly sweet - whenever I'm over there, she asks me about how my parents/mom were/is doing, talks to me about school, and offers for me to stay during dinner. She and JT came up for my dad's service, something that meant so very much to me. If you pray, please include JT and his family in your prayers, and if not, please keep them in your thoughts. I asked him to keep me updated.

It sucks having to say, "I know how you feel," and actually mean it because I've been through it before, but I am there for him. Whatever his family needs, I'm there. Many people offered to bring dinner to us when Daddy was sick, and that was so nice, not something I would have immediately thought of. I extended that invitation to JT, though if it's not serious (and I hope it's not!) they won't have to worry about it, but I want to be there for him. He's too young to be half-orphaned, too.

Sometimes I hate growing older.