If she had the proper words to say,

Long-time readers of my journal will remember that Philip's dad is fighting cancer. This spring, it will have been a long, hard five years now. Lately, he is just bad-turned-worse, and the outlook is so very bleak.

At my insistence, Philip took a week-long visit last year by himself to go home and spend time with his dad. This was in March, and I think it was needed badly for the both of them.

This past weekend, we had been talking about things again. Philip's dad had hoped to have a procedure done this past Wednesday, but the cancer is too progressed, blocking things for it. I asked Philip if anywhere here knew that his dad was sick, that his dad was so very sick. They had all known when we lived in Nebraska, and it had been the summer of '06 when we had rushed home for his dad's first surgery. Here, however, no one really knew. I urged and encouraged him to share the news with his supervisors, knowing he will need their help in time.

He finally did that tonight. He left for work around 5pm, and I was very surprised to see him return home at 8:30pm. When I asked him why he was home so early (had he forgotten something?), he quickly told me that he had told his supervisors, and they had immediately sent him home. He's not to go to work tomorrow night either (and he's off on Wed-Thurs anyway).

He had been explaining the situation to his supervisor when his commanding officer overheard. He pulled Philip aside and talked to him at more length. They told him not to "arm up," and he asked more questions. When they finished, he sent him home.

There isn't a lot to be done from here, of course. Philip's dad is in West Virginia, and we are in North Dakota. We worry and we pray, and lately, I feel that prayers are doing as much as our worrying - nothing. I suppose my head knows better, but it's hard to tell my heart better.

The boys were still awake, and they peppered Philip with the question, "Why are you home?" I was standing at the kitchen sink, and I felt - rather than heard - the painful pause as Philip didn't answer. He couldn't. I dropped my things, and hugged close to his side.

Philip was too choked to speak, so I told the boys through my own tears. They know that Papa George is sick, and they've known for a long time that he isn't getting better. They even know that he is getting worse. We don't skirt the issue in our house, but I guess I've been doing most of the telling/comforting to the boys at times when Philip is not around. They do know how bad the situation is, but they had not heard it from their father's mouth.

Their daddy can't say those words out loud. :-(

It was a tearful evening, but they have long since been tucked into bed. I'm taking care of Philip, trying to meet his needs before he knows he has them. I'm sure the talk with his superiors was stressful and difficult, but he would never say as much. I quietly went upstairs and drew a warm bath for him, and then I sent him to it. I placed a drink and some ibuprofen on the counter for him, and I hope he is easing tensions even as I type this. Too often, he forgets to take care of even himself.

The time on this computer is wacky, and I can't understand why. Actually, I should say that the time on the computer seems to be showing as the correct time, but LJ gives my posts a wacky time from a few hours in the future, and I'm not sure why. Yeah, I could override it to the correct time, but I'm just lazy.

While Nancy was at the hospital yesterday, I did a bunch more cleaning for her. She'd mentioned wanting to wash her bedding the night before, so I tackled that while she was gone as well. Um, yeah. Let's just say I'll never have anything more than two sheets and a comforter on our bed. The frilly, foofoo sheets, blankets, bedspreads, shams, and decorative designs that should be laid "just so" are too much for me. I'm certain I ended up doing something wrong as I remade the bed, but it's the thought that counts, right? Later on, I found out that she always irons her sheets before putting them back on the bed. Did I do that? NO...

Amy called out around lunchtime to see if the boys wanted to come over and play in the sprinkler. Philip ran them out (it's a block away), and then came back to finish mowing the lawn. I was still cleaning. Once we were both done, we went out to play as well. The kids had long since been done with the sprinkler, and they were playing in the house instead. Amy had let them all make their own ice cream sundaes, and the boys thought that was a blast! We lounged around for a while, and then finally scooped up the boys so that we could get to the hospital for a visit with Papa George.

Papa George had moved into a regular room, so we were able to visit with him for over an hour yesterday. He's a popular person, though, and the phone rang off the hook while we were there. He had also been delivered the largest flower arrangement I'd ever seen, and we brought it home for Nancy at his request. He looked good, and he had no more IVs or tubes in him. We left when he needed to use the restroom, and Philip had helped him up out of the bed for that.

We came home and really worked on cleaning out the fridge. Nancy's friends had brought tons of food over in the afternoon before we arrived, and we'd not been able to get through it all. They'd told Nancy then that the food was "for the kids" - meaning US coming in. Yesterday afternoon, her friend Susan had called and said that meals from the church would start Tuesday night (tonight), so I knew we had to hurry up and eat what all we could. Nancy and George are very loved, and they have some amazing friends. :-)

The boys had baths and went to bed. After a few hours of messing around and semi-fighting while sharing the hide-a-bed downstairs, Philip and I finally moved them to sleep on the floor in separate areas of the basement (I'd warned them of this earlier). I thought it would be more of a punishment, but this morning they were both telling Grammy how cool it was that they got to sleep on the floor!

I'm not sure what all today holds. Papa George should be coming home this afternoon, though!

I called Nancy and George last night to get an update, and I learned that yesterday's colonoscopy did not go well. In fact, the colonoscopy couldn't be done. The tumor was too large to get the scope in. The doctor even tried to use a pediatric scope, to no avail. This isn't good news, as the doctors only keep re-confirming the sheer size of this tumor, yet aren't really able to see or learn more about it.

George was scheduled for his CT scan today, but Nancy doesn't think they'll hear results from that until they speak with the doctor on Thursday. I hope for good news.