I was walking in the backyard with my father at home. He was balming himself for not walking and moving enough. He thought he was feeling unwell recently because of this. He thought it was all his fault. I didn’t want to argue with that, but reality is that this has to do only with cancer, not him or anything else. He does the best he can, but sadly cancer is stronger than him, stronger than anyone. Or maybe it is not stronger, only cancer started with too big advantage.
Then he said to me, that in a few weeks or months, when spring comes and he is going to get better, then he is going to walk to the lake with the dogs more often, and he is going to take a better care of himself, in order to get better and stronger. J just nodded repeatedly… Oh God, my poor father! He breaks my heart! Poor father is still hoping that he is going to get better and healthy again, that he is going to be cured and saved, but he won’t. Nobody is going to cure him. He is going to die this very year. My God! He is still hoping, he is still thinking he is going to live, because he doesn’t know it ain’t so. Nobody told him it ain’t so. I haven’t told him it ain’t so, although I will have to at one point. I will have to break his heart, his hope, his everything! It has to be me to tell him, that he is going to die soon, because no one else will. Oh God, my dear poor Daddy!