We had another fun year of fireworks on Hilton Head Island, SC. It is a great scene. People gather to stake out a spot on the fairway of the 18th hole of the Harbour Town Course. The setting is really beautiful with the sun setting over the water of the sound and a lot of people hanging out and happy. It really is a great time and a great setting.

And there are a lot of fathers tossing footballs around with their sons.

Even the good times with lots of smiles and laughter are still tempered by grief. You probably wouldn't have recognized it if you had been there. I don't know if it is something that I am learning to live with it, or just know how to hide. Or if that isn't just two ways to say the same thing.



Should be celebrating a decade of fatherhood today.



I am so happy for and so jealous of the cancer parents that are winning their battles and spending time with their precious children.

I wouldn't have it any other way and there is a part of me that rejoices for them. Their joy doesn't make me sad. But the awareness of their joy seems to sharpen my pain at times.

Julia (8) recently expressed to Susan that she would be happy if childhood cancer was cured, but that it would make her a little sad too...sad that the cure wasn't found in time for Nathan. I wasn't there, but it seemed that she felt that there might be something wrong about feeling sad about something so wonderful. There isn't. It is just how it is.


The way it is

A Facebook friend and fellow cancer dad updated his status with, "Off to school, chemo, and then Will's first T-ball practice". I pray for his family's continued strength and for the day that Will is cured and "chemo" no longer becomes a matter-of-fact part of a normal day for any child.



I'm feeling pretty good now, but was feeling very low this morning. I was longing for the simpler times of my childhood and the love and protection of my parents. And I was wishing for my girls the same sheltered experience that I had. That they will never have. I never knew grief as a child. And I didn't have parents that were raw and grieving and scarred and broken.

For the most part I honestly prefer being grown up to being a kid. But sometimes it would be nice to be so naive and to live back in a time before the pain. And I feel so sad for my girls. Memories of childhood will never be the pain free sanctuary for them that they are for me.