Yesterday morning that song kept running through my head. Family and I were walking on the beach, a glorious, amazing January-I-am-so-lucky- to-live-in-California kind of day, watching my kids collecting sea glass… and thinking about my dad in the hospital.
We don’t quite know what’s wrong, it seems most likely to be lung cancer, we will know in a couple of days. He just had an incredibly amazing surgery to remove a tumor and 1 vertebrae, and today he’s been able to sit in a chair and will be out of ICU. 
It’s hard to hold onto how miraculous that is — while also thinking about the fact that he’ll start the “real” battle with this cancer in another week. These emotional paradoxes amaze me. How at once I can feel this incredible sense of blessing and concurrently feel a looming abyss of loss.
I don’t want to “go there” until we get the oncology report, and I keep slipping into the shadows of grief – into thinking how much we’ll miss him, how much I’ll miss him, about how there are so many things we’d saved for someday.