Sometime during the night my head unscrewed. As I arose it fell into my lap.
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"I will breakfast from the cupboard where uneaten dreams are kept"
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The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
My father is terminally ill (with cancer), yet his biggest fear isn’t the malignant cells that have made his body misshapen and painful. His biggest fear is that the insidious cells will attack his mind. He constantly tests the sharpness of his mind against those around him, but I’ve peered into his secret, and know why he does this. Reading your last few entries has brought this into focus even more. Tolerance is a gift, and I need to continue to multiply my ability to use it. He cannot fight what is happening to his body, but at least he can retain some dignity by exercising his mind. I understand more clearly now. Thank you.