So this is how my journey into cancer began. It's nothing new . . . the feelings of loss, the pain, the sorrow, the numbness from the news; My family is certainly not the first to enter into this dark and scary abyss. The saddness sets in deeper when you realize there will be many, so many more to join you on this unwanted journey.

I decided to start this "blog", at the urging of my husband. It's funny in a way; When I was a teenager, I would get outraged at this or that; as many teenagers do when confronted with injustices. I would sit with my dad and go on a rant . . . he would always listen closely to what I was saying, then he would look at me and in a serious voice say, "Well, if it bothers you so much, then write about it. Send it to the newspaper and let people read what you have to say. If you don't, you have nothing to complain about." "Hmmm . . . well that makes sense", I thought, "I'm going to do just that!" And off to my room I would go and write my little heart out. When I was finished my piece, I would grab my fathers ear once again, read it for him and wait to see if I expressed myself clearly enough. My dad was and is a "straight shooter", and because I knew this to be true; If he said, "That sounds about right to me." I knew I got it right. My husband is that very same man. So, if you are reading this, it's greatly due to these two men who believe in me.

This blog is a journey . . . It's my way of dealing with my feelings and thoughts; Otherwise I would never sleep. As I have described myself in my profile thingy, I am a woman who, when faced with obstacles, does not tip-toe or skirt the issue. I find a way to get rid of that obstacle. There is no "around" for me it's straight ahead and through. My mind will not stop until I do. Right now the obstacle for me is cancer, and all of the, or rather, lack of truth that I have found. To me there can be no answer left unanswered. I never have and never will be an individual that believes in the, "because I said so" mentality. I wasn't raised that way and it goes against my very being.

I have found that the saying, "The truth shall set you free", is the most complete and correct statement ever made. The truth does set one free. Free from guilt, free from shame, free from undue pressure people put on themselves, and free from the pressure placed on them by others. However, that being said, we are all idividuals with different truths, each with our own individual perspectives. The beauty happens when we share our truths. When an author can share a truth with a reader, a certain magic occurs; allowing the light of that truth to become brighter. So, as I share my truths . . . whether in-line with yours or not, I can never say I didn't shine my light, and in return, you the reader, can never say you didn't see it.

"I'm dying", he said, in response to my, "I'm O.K. How are you", telephone banter that we had seemed to settled into over years. And in that brief moment . . . In the seconds it took for those two words to reach my mind; I felt the very essence of my being leave me in a single breathe, my heart ached like that of one losing one's "first love", and I realized that my life would never be the same again.

There is nothing that can prepare you to hear those two words . . . Nothing. There is also nothing that can stop the pain and sense of loss. "I thought I had more time", was all that ran through my mind. I believe I even uttered those words to my father. However, I really can't be sure, because it was as if something inside me had died and I went into an "auto pilot" state-of-mind.

I remember my Father saying he was "sure", "there's no mistake". He said that he had lung cancer and that there was "nothing else they can do for me." He had been diagnosed in December 2007. He hadn't wanted to worry me, so he just didn't say anything until now. He was home under hospice care. He may have six months, maybe more, maybe less. He asked me if I would make the calls to my brother and sister, "You'ld know who to call", he said.

He must have realized the state that I was in. It will go down as one of the few times in my life that he has known me to have so very little to say. I couldn't think. I couldn't feel anything but anguish. The tears would not stop falling from my eyes and my poor husband sat by waiting, knowing it was bad, and trying to console with his eyes. I told my Father I would make the calls. "I love you", I said. "I love you too", he replied.

I hung up the phone. I picked up a matchbook that was on my nightstand from lighting a candle earlier. "Do you have a pen?" I asked my husband. He handed me a pen and I wrote, I guess so I would never forget: February 28, 2008 . . . 7:10pm . . . Dad.

Then I just collapsed into my husbands arms . . . Seeking some sort of protection from the onslaught of emotions that came flooding in. He just held onto me tight and let me fall apart. He stayed right by my side, holding my hand, as I drew from his strength while I made the calls that needed to be made. After I hung up from the last call, again I broke down. The news and all that it had meant came upon with it's full force. "I am going to lose my father! But I'm not ready to lose him yet . . . Dear God not yet," was all I kept repeating as my husband held me close.

Sometime in the late hours I simply passed out. I hadn't cried myself to sleep like that since I was a child. But when I awoke, before my eyes even opened up to the morning light . . . The tears continued to fall.