country, or even the world, have it, or have had it. So, there isn’t a lot of information, or research around about it to help doctors to treat it.
“It’s also a tricky form of cancer that’s very hard for doctors to fix. Very hard indeed, so unfortunately a lot of people who get it don’t do so well.” When she was older, I’d explain to her just how aggressive his form of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma was, and how many people who had it didn’t make it.
“So, we knew that Daddy was very sick, and was likely to get sicker, and maybe... die.”
Fuck. I wondered when it would get easier to say the words. After six years and countless retellings for Lila’s benefit, talking about what happened—recounting every last detail, in fact— still immediately took me back to the emotions I felt at the time. The terror, the worry, the pain, and the grief, would all wash over me in waves, just like they had then.
I marveled at how real it could feel, almost like I was living it for the first time all over again. I alternated between awe for the human spirit and our ability to endure physical and emotional pain, and feeling utterly desolate about the way both things could tear us apart, ravage our souls, and leave us for dead, figuratively and literally.
When I got to feeling that way, I generally only had to glance at Lila’s glowing, smiling face, and all was good in the world, no matter what.
“Now, your daddy was the most stubborn and hard-headed man I’d ever met—except for your uncle Zed, who is just as bad—and he was a fighter. In one way or another, he’d been fighting all his life, even when he didn’t realize it, and he wasn’t about to stop fighting until the very end.” I gulped back the tears threatening to fall.
“He never would take ‘no’ for an answer in any area of his life, and his illness was no different. He fought so hard, and tried everything to get better—new and different treatments, the top doctors in the world—anything he could do, he did it.” As always, Lila hung on every word as I spoke, her big brown eyes, so like my own, drinking me in attentively.
“He even flew to Switzerland and paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for a very new treatment that nobody had ever had before. He also spent a lot of time reading and studying what else he could, and should be doing to help himself get better. I swear if he’d heard that standing on his head might cure him, he’d have been upside down for hours.”
Lila laughed, as she always did at this part of the story.
I laughed too, as it always conjured up the image of Raine in his hospital gown, his butt exposed to the world through the gap at the back, and his dick and balls dangling in the wind. It hadn’t happened, but it wasn’t entirely outlandish to imagine that it could have. Plus, it was good to inject a little humor into what could otherwise be a very bleak tale.
“Anyway, so your daddy fought and fought. And he was amazingly strong, and brave. Even when he was so sick and so tired, he never gave up. Even when he just wanted to rest, he struggled on. He gave it every last ounce of energy in his body, and then some.
“And you know what else? Me and your Uncle Beck, and Uncle Nate, and Uncle Dillon, and Uncle Tom, and Uncle Zed were all there every step of the way. I never left your father’s side, and your uncles were there every moment they could be. But that was hard for us too, and sometimes we all wanted to quit. We all wanted to give up. We were tired and it was hard, and we were done. But do you know who kept us going, and kept us fighting?”
“My daddy.”
“That's right. Even when he had hardly enough energy for himself, he tried his best to keep our spirits up.” I had to bite my lip to keep the tears at bay, and only just managed it. I still felt ashamed at the times I’d wanted to throw in the towel, when I’d thought I was too tired to carry on. Or worse, too exhausted and worn down to sit by any longer and powerlessly witness Raine lose the fight. That desolate feeling of helplessness was utterly draining to