Tonight featured beautiful weather. Warm, but not too hot. Cool, but not cold. The bugs were otherwise occupied and no humidity or wind chill could be found. Tricia, Will and I seized the opportunity to enjoy a lovely meal on the deck tonight, although my son insisted, “No Daddy, it’s a picnic.” Just as paper always covers rock, a 3-year old’s opinion always trumps a dad’s words, even if they are more accurate.
After dinner, we decided to treat the boy to some ice cream. Since we had errands to run on that end of town, we decided to go to Rita’s. After we placed our order, the young lady behind the counter asked my wife if she wanted to donate a dollar to a certain charity. My wife graciously accepted the offer and the cashier handed her an object to sign. Tricia signed our son’s name to the item and the worker added our symbol of support to the growing display behind the counter.
The charity? Alex’s Lemonade Stand. The symbol? A giant lemon.
It was bigger than my tumor, but still a reminder of what I recently endured. I felt a little misty for a second, felt sorry for myself for about five seconds, then realized I had a blue raspberry italian ice melting in my hands and refocused to the task at hand.
If only the doctors had described it as a “brussel sprout-sized tumor”, we wouldn’t have these problems.
Keeping the faith.