February 22nd, 2013: If you're reading along, you may be getting confused. I lived it, and I am. Looking back, I wonder what I was referring to when I wrote of getting "the word"? Dad had been clearly diagnosed with cancer. He had tumors on at least one lung, and his liver.
There may have been a few details omitted in my original writings. To this point, a day shy of two weeks into dad's situation, most everything had been revolving around pinpointing the type of cancer, and size of the tumors.
Maybe, possibly, "the word" was in reference to how advanced the cancer was. Maybe, possibly, I was not strong enough to put that in words.
Lynn is dad's daughter from his first marriage. She is 20 years older than me, is a great half sister, and has lived south of Tacoma, Washington since the early 60's. I don't have a lot of memories of her living in Pittsfield, before she got married, and moved. First to Dover, Delaware. Then to Lakewood. Her husband, Roger Cory, was in the Air Force. I remember a photo of me, sitting on the gift table at her wedding, that hung in Aunt Betty's den. When she moved out and got married, she also left behind a small stack of 45 rpm records that helped launch my love for music.
|My half sister, Lynn Cory. And her friend Stew Wegner|
I never met Lynn's mom, dad's first wife, until years and years later, at the wedding of Lynn's son, Rodney.
The long distance made seeing them difficult. Lynn, Roger, and their children, Rodney and Julie, had their life, out in the northwest. We were in the midwest. Flying was still expensive, and more for the "privileged" in the 60's. Mom was scared to fly. They did make it back to Pittsfield a couple of times. I can remember Rod and I racing around on our riding lawn mower, and catching lightning bugs in Aunt Betty's backyard.
When mom married dad. Lynn was still living in Pittsfield. Lynn was only 6-7 years younger than mom. Apparently, at times, it was awkward. And it was through no fault of Lynn's.
Dad would have the opportunity to call Lynn from the hardware store at any time. And we all called back and forth at various times of the year. Especially holidays.
Lynn had surely been notified of dad's condition, as soon as we found out. This was an update. To this point, no plans had been made for us to visit them. Or for them to visit us.
Lynn and I both inherited dad's dimple. Lynn jokes, and tells people "we fell on a nail."