Dear Kegan.
Dear Kegan,
Tomorrow, your dad is going to call you and tell you that your step mom has been diagnosed with stage four brain cancer. You don’t really know what this means, but it means this: she’s only got 24 months to live.
I’m writing you to tell you what the next two years of your life is going to be like.
You’re going to cry. A lot. And in random places. In the taxi, at a client meeting, in a cafe, on a date, in the shower, before bed, on the subway, at a bar, in the middle of the basketball game.
You’ll wonder why no one is asking you why you’re crying.
You won’t be able to sleep. You’ll spend countless hours reading about cancer and the brain and how this can be beat. Let me save you the time: it can’t. It can only be delayed. And all those hours you wasted reading, would’ve been better spent with your family.
So, let me spell it out for you: go fucking visit them. For once in your life, you should think about what they need. After all, they’ve spent their whole life thinking about you, and what you need.
But get ready. Because these visits aren’t going to be like the ones you’re used to. Everything will be frantic. No one will stop moving. There’s always something to be done: dirty dishes, furniture to be moved, wood to be stacked, whiskey to be drank.
Just try to be patient. Any anxiety or restlessness or uncertainty or anger or resentment you’re feeling is nothing compared to your dad and your step mom. You can’t even begin to fathom the day-to-day life of terminal cancer and the effect that has on those thinking about the few remaining moments they have left on this earth.
So, I want you to think about everything you thought you knew about patience. Now throw it all away. This is the hardest thing you’ll ever go through in your life. There’s nothing I can really tell you that will make it easy.
But, then again, this isn’t really about you, is it?
I can tell you there are times you’re going to feel so overwhelmed and wonder what the the point of anything is for — why has your entire life been nothing but wasted potential? What are you doing with your life? How is it possible to be so selfish? To take, take, take, and never give.
And then I can tell you to think of your dad. And your step brother. And Lorraine. And imagine how all of them are feeling.
You’re going to think about all the time you spent together, and kick yourself for how selfish you were. How you could’ve spent more time together, and not been such a dick when you were a teenager.
Don’t waste time on these thoughts, they don’t do anyone any good.
And you’re going to think about how you should’ve told the people you love that you love them.
So start doing it now.
Mostly you’ll think about the big memories you all had together, when you already graduated college and would come back to visit. And everything was bliss. Summer weekends on the lake, Keith Urban concerts, the new jet skis.
But I encourage you to think of the little things from your formative years too. How she would drive you around to soccer practices, and make sure dinner was cooked, and that the house was clean, and that the lawn was mowed, and that you had a lunch, and a ride home from school.
Every. Single. Day.
If greatness is a habit, then Lorraine is nothing if not a great mother. Loving, patient, selfless.
Because without any of these things, all of your childhood memories wouldn’t exist. No baseball field in the back yard for you to spend hours upon hours playing at. No poker games. No street hockey. No lake house.
And these are perhaps the best thing any parent can leave their kid.
I know you’ve heard the saying “you don’t know the pain people are carrying around with them.” Well, you’re about to live it. So try to be as strong as you can.
Lots of love & patience,
Your Future Self
