Cancer Sucks...and so does cold weather.

My dad has cancer.

The words feel thick in my throat. I should be used to saying it by now, I mean it’s been quite some time that my dad has been sick and battling this bitch. Yet only recently have I had to say it out loud - to explain why I’m crumpled in a ball outside the front door at work or apologize for needing last-minute time off so I can make absolutely sure I don’t regret not seeing him more. And people are generally really understanding. That sounds stupid - why wouldn’t they be?? It’s not like anyone ASKS to get cancer. Or even that we know WHY most people ever get cancer. It’s just this indiscriminate a-hole ruining lives. But I digress.

Last-minute time off means a hustle to purchase overpriced plane tickets (including one for Nova because lord knows I’m not about to hold a very mobile 11-month-old on a three-hour flight). Last minute means hoping the few hotels scattered around the smallish town of Concord, New Hampshire have availability. Even better if they have one of those magical rooms that have a separate sleeping area (moms of littles everywhere rejoice). Spoiler alert: no magical rooms, just regular ones. Last minute means avoiding office chit chat and even sidelining my beloved workouts to make sure I could leave work feeling like I was not going to come back even more swamped than I normally am. Last minute also means late nights scrolling Amazon for #allthewinterclothes because #floridagirl.

As luck would have it, our original trip was canceled due to Winter Storm Harper that turned out to be nothing more than a winter sneeze. My emotions were running wild that morning thinking everything was ruined…I wouldn’t get to see my dad. But both Jetblue and the Fairfield Inn and Suites were able to change our reservations to exactly one week later with no hassle and no extra cost. Everything was the same minus the date. And the weather…the weather was forecasted to be much kinder to us southerners.

The first flight was a breeze. Baby Girl slept for most of it and kept herself busy the rest of the time. We stepped off the plane and headed to the baggage claim (eager to snag our jackets just in case someone walked through the automatic doors and we froze instantaneously). And there he was. A skinnier, pale, bald version of him…but still him. Smiling, goofy, and hopeful. That first hug felt foreign, but familiar at the same time. More bones, but just as much love as I remember.

The next few days were a blur of snow, frozen snot, and family. We trekked up north (during a snow storm I might add) to see our friends Jean and Otis, who just happen to have a ridiculous house at the top of a ridiculous hill that made our sledding dreams come true. We all forgot how much work it is to climb back up the hill once you sled down, so there wasn’t all that much sledding happening on this sledding trip.

In typical Nova fashion, Baby Girl was NOT a fan of the snow. Every. Single. Time. I set her down to snap a super cute pic for Insta, BAM! She’d start ugly crying. Girl hates the sand, she hates the snow…what’s left, girlfriend??

Otis made a half dozen of his trademark homemade pizzas, and we shared cocktails and laughs the whole night.

The next day, we had lunch with my Gram and her husband Lyle at their new condo. We made absolutely sure we remembered to take a four generation photo…might be the last time we can all squeeze into one frame together. My Gram was glowing about her new place and managed a whole spread of sandwiches, soup, and various charcuterie elements even with less than 24-hours notice of our plan to visit. She’s amazing, that one.

We ate…a lot. We drank…more than normal (especially for me). And at the end of it we were so beyond ready to be done with the cold weather. But I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. I’m not ready. Do you hear me, cancer?? I’m not freaking ready.

He’s strong though. Stubborn too.

I wonder if Jetblue has flights available yet for next January…