Death's scar and bad breath

So maybe there will be more parallels to this weekend trip than just the beginning of our blogs. In case you haven't read the last two blogs, my friend Joel and I are going to a commemoration event for this father who died 25 years ago.

So, last night, I got a call from my sister. She said my father was just diagnosed with lymphoma of the stomach or intestines. (More specifics after the biopsy today.) He is 82 and strong as an ox; plays golf almost every day; has all his faculties about him. (He gets frustrated if he can't finish the Saturday crossword puzzle in the Times.) An email from one of my brothers this morning, in response to the news, wrote: "So, even God is mortal after all?"

Well, in a nod to Mark Twain, we shouldn't be rumoring his death prematurely. This may well be just another battle scar. He had a small lymphoma removed from his neck about four years ago.

Anyway, this trip will have a father theme to it on both of our sides. Joel will be dealing the scar of death. I will be dealing with Death's bad breath in my face.