Inside Out of Me... Daddy-O's Cancer

I'm in an emotional tug-of-war at the moment. Daddy-O's cancer seems to be winning and he's about to do something that is incredibly stupid at this point (and the doctor's agreed to it). The current, stronger chemo drug he's been taken has been weened out of his system so he can go see a nascar race??? What the FUCK??? Emphasis on the FUCK part of that. In addition to that, the chemo that they want him to resume to do battle with the thumb-sized cancer in his lung, he has decided to not take again. I understand both sides of the situation. He has been fighting cancer for two years now and he is exhausted. Unfortunately, it continues to rear it's cell killing self again and again. The other side is that if he were to continue the fight, he would be completely exhausted and virtually immobilized by 'the treatment'. His world would come crashing down and hence, would remove his single motivation to continue living... his business. *Sigh* I have to re-establish my arms length distance with the situation otherwise, I risk going into my own downward emotional spiral. That simply cannot happen. I can feel for him and I will grieve when that time comes but, he's here and so am I. I am being constantly reminded that I have to live my life to it's fullest. Life in the broad view is very short. I cannot allow his past choices to influence my present and future. Yet, I know he's preparing for that day. Last weekend, the uncle and I had a couple of conversations over dinner and that was my first knowledge of his situation and the inpending question: Will he continue to fight the cancer? I got that answer on friday in so many terms unspoken when he gave me a key to his place that he rents just over the state line in Michigan. It was a 'No', of course. Even so, he's making an incredible mistake in cutting back on the chemo meds now for a far less important purpose. I've developed a keen sense for those 'signs' that most people realize in hindsight... and it sucks (sort of)! The signals are crossing and he's in the crossfire and will ultimately lose by his own conscious choice. As we looked at each other on friday, when he caught my stare, we both nodded our heads. We understand one another better than we care to admit to one another verbally, in who we are and in our bloodline. I hope he does go peacefully when he goes. His time left here has been terribly brutal on his body and mind. I hope that things do not fall on the tenth anniversary of mom's death (april 29th, 2009) but, it could actually happen that way. Tomorrow never knows as always. This is where things will begin going south for him. I am still in awe of the power of those dried tabacco leaf pieces and the paper wrapped around them... the power they have over the human will. Size really does not matter. The cigarette is mightier than the person that puffs away on it and in turn, puffs away the life of that person. Powerful.