Tomorrow is Charles' birthday. He will be "celebrating" it in between radiation therapy, stomach tube cleaning, eye bandage changes, pain medication administering, and whatnot. And that's if it is a "good" day. If it's not a good day, then he will be laying in agony and exhaustion in between bouts of vomiting and constant waves of nausea. You definitely don't want to know what it would be like if it is a worse day.
So, with all of this in mind, how do I call him tomorrow and tell him "Happy Birthday"? I have dreaded this for over a week already and am not any closer in my mind to pinning this monster fear to the mat. There has to be a way for me to convey to him that I am glad he's alive for another day of life even if he is in torment and losing the battle with cancer. How glad I am that he's still fighting. Surely I can find some way to put a spin on the whole conversation so it isn't obvious that both of us know this will be the last birthday.
No, there's no easy out for me. No softer way. No possibility of avoidance of the uncomfortable "chore" before me. I have to call him, just like I do every day, and tell him once again, "I love ya', Little Bro'." And then I need to tell him how much ... how very, very much I wish ... No, I WANT ... how very much I want him to have a Happy Birthday.
God grant me the serenity.