One Year

One year ago today, my dad went into surgery for prostate cancer. 

He's doing well. He's a strong and stubborn man, my father. 

A few weeks before the surgery is when he told me had cancer. It was after we had played a round of golf. We were sitting in front of the pro-shop at the executive course by the fairgrounds. He was standing up, cleaning his sunglasses and I was sitting down on the bench when he told me, "Rach, I have cancer."

It took a second to process and then I started to cry. I couldn't believe it, I didn't want to believe it, it had to be some crazy Yaqui Indian test. 

I told him, "NO. You don't."

"YES, I do." he replied. 

I know that there were other things said; questions asked and answered. He told me to stop crying. I did. Mostly. 

I was scared. Not for me. For him. Okay, maybe a bit for me.  

We drove down the road, in our own vehicles, to the Denny's by the freeway. I sat facing the window. In the parking lot that the Denny's shared with the hotel there were Florico dancers and Mariachi's getting ready to go somewhere. We talked about treatment. It would be surgery. I stated that I would move back home with him while he recuperated. Six weeks, six months, I didn't care, I was going back home to be with him. We ate breakfast, drank our coffee, talked about business. I teared up but didn't cry. It was almost normal.

We went our separate ways. 

I called my mom. I started crying again. You know that cry where the sobs are wracking your body and you can barely breathe? I was fighting that type of crying. I told her, I told my step-dad (who has been in my life almost as long as I can remember and who has been nothing but wonderful to me, despite the amazing asshole I was while growing up.). He offered words of encouragement and made me feel a little better before he handed the phone back to Mom. Mom also gave me words of encouragement. She heard me crying and asked me "Where are you?" 

"I'm on the freeway." I replied through my tears. 

"You're driving?"

"Uh-huh."

"And talking on the phone. And crying." 

"I'm multi-tasking." I say, laughing a bit through the tears.

It's been a year since The Surgery. Dad says he's going to start training for a 5k in October. It's on my birthday. 

I'm a lucky, lucky girl.