Ugly turns

My dear friend Ken lost his farm in the 1980s. He raised four girls and herds of cattle in the sandhills of western Nebraska. Then the farm crisis hit and -- poof -- it was all gone. He drove away from his land with his family and whatever they could fit in their car. They settled in Lincoln and in his 60s, Ken went back to school to get a bachelor's degree. He wound up working for the SARE program, where I worked while we lived in Lincoln. Ken is my granpda/second dad/brother.

I'd avoided calling Ken about Dad's condition until today. Ken and Dad are kindred spirits. When I told Ken, he paused and in his deep and deliberate cowboy voice said,

"Life can really take some ugly turns."

That's where we're at right now. Dad is faced with rough seas. His neurosurgeon told him today that it is, in fact, an aggressive form of brain cancer. He will need chemotherapy and radiation. Next Wednesday he has appointments to discuss details.

But going forward, we remain optimistic. They removed the entire tumor, which is not always possible. Dad is young and strong. He's rapidly recovering from surgery, and his attitude is that of gratitude to his friends, family, doctors and nurses. Physically and mentally, he is fit. He's back home (only two days after brain surgery!) with Heather and Linda. I am in Wisconsin now, but my heart remains at 50902 Becker Road.

I keep this picture in my mind: Yesterday when we left the hospital, my aunt and uncle came in to visit with Dad, who was moving from the "step down" neurology unit (like ICU) to a regular room. As we waved goodbye to Dad walking down the hall, he had a grin from ear to ear. Embracing his brother- and sister-in-law and his nurse, Mo, he did not act like a man recovering from major surgery and looking down the line at more treatments.

Ugly turns will not bring him -- or any of us -- down.