You've just got to live.

My dad called me last month to come home to help him bathe and groom my parents' dogs. Work and school have been crazy, and honestly? I've just been so caught up in my life that I put off going home another week. Since Dad learned how to text we have been communicating more than usual. He isn't really fond of talking on the phone (unless I have a life emergency, then he's all ears.) & lately it has been hard for him to talk. Those darn allergies have been irritating his throat again.

I came home later than I anticipated, I'm infamous for that. By the time I had made it home Dad was already in his garden tending to his many plants and mom was laying down watching t.v. after a long day of work. I put my bag in my old room and went to lay down with mom her in room and chat. She always asks about my life, about how RJ and I are doing, work, school, and of course- about how Leilani (my niece) is doing in college at Texas Tech. During the conversation we veered quickly off...

"Poppy (my mom has always referred to my dad as "Poppy" since Leilani was born) went to the doctor the other day because his throat hasn't been feeling well. They did some tests and the labs came back and Poppy has cancer."

Excuse me? What? I immediately started to tear up.
WHAT? what kind of cancer? Is it thyroid? What stage is it?

"Calm down," my mother tells me.."They are wanting a second opinion so he has another appointment on October 27th. Don't show your dad you're crying, you have to be strong. Wipe your tears. We don't know any more right now."

How could she say that? How could she not be reacting the exact way I was? Why are we waiting? Why is that appointment so far away?

I left the room and saw my dad watching t.v., I hugged him and told him that I love him.

So, mom told me about your appointment. This is why you're voice sounds the way it does. 

"Don't worry yet, cancer is curable. I am waiting for a second opinion and then we will know more." He said to me. So, I stopped with all of my questions and just waited until his next appointment.

His consultation? Well, they accidentally scheduled him with the wrong doctor. Nice.

We had to wait another week. His appointment came and I asked him to let me know as soon as possible. Of course, I get a text that Monday while I am at work. Yeah, it's cancer. Right on his vocal chords.

That following Wednesday I made it home to find out more about his appointment.

"My options are surgery or radiation therapy. Radiation therapy gives me a 50/50 chance that the cancer will be gone and I will be able to talk. I will have to have approximately 6wks of radiation- 5x a week. Surgery means that they will cut my vocal chord and will no longer be able to talk for the rest of my life."

I have no words. Which is ironic, given his diagnosis and the possible consequences. I don't even know what I would do in that situation. Above everything, his life is more important, and I know that. But the thought of never being able to call my dad again kills me.

I left the next morning to get back home to Austin because of school. On my way home while talking to my mother she said to me "Don't get any more tattoos. You should only have a small one." (like she always says to me, this is a re-occurring conversation.)

Mom, life is too short. I just want to enjoy my life, and if that means with a few tattoos then so be it. I love them, they're me.

"You're right. Enjoy life."