A Depressing Post

I logged in, planning to write, in my best Soup Nazi impersonation, "No post for you!" But, let's just see where stream-of-consciousness takes me.

I just got back from rural Ontario, which is always interesting. My father is fighting 5 types of cancer, but oddly, all of them are considered to be the least deadly types of cancer in each class. He has skin cancer, but not melanoma, for example. But, he looks pale, which makes his wardrobe choices all the more perplexing. His beige pants, beige shirt, and beige socks match his pale, ashen complexion, a complexion that would seem to demand some colour compensation. He just needed a hat to convince all of us that he was about to go on safari.

The loss of 25 or 30 pounds makes him appear completely different. His face is drawn; he has no energy; he needs to nap several times per day. For the first time, he looks old to me. He's lost something. He didn't make a single racy joke and, far more surprising, didn't offer any political commentary or investment advice. Occasionally, he stared off into the distance, and I really wondered what he was thinking about.

I wonder if having skin cancer makes him regret the hours he spent basking in the sun. Somehow, I doubt it. He loved the sun and would probably follow the same route again, given a second chance.

Time prevented an additional junket to visit my mother, now housed in a new home, close to my sister's house. It's here where she will live out her days eating meatloaf and watching her roommates die. I gather she is not enamored with the place, but that might change. At Christmas, I will have to ensure that I visit her in her new abode.

My, wasn't that depressing? I just have to add the title and hit publish.