On December 19th our family received some devastating news. My father was diagnosed with metastatic brain, bone, lung and stomach cancer. He had seemed fine at Thanksgiving with the exception of what we thought was a strained back. As the weeks progressed his pain increased and he ended up in the hospital on December 18, my brothers fortieth birthday.

As the tests results came back, each report was like being punched in the stomach. First you hope it is just in one spot, then two and then you start to realize that the only thing to hope for is a miracle.

For those of you that don’t know me well, I am as Tara puts it “freakishly close” to my family. We talk on the phone every day and people who live in the same town as them will call me if they can’t find them. I am as close to my father as I am to any one of my friends, so this diagnosis came as quite a blow.

One night as I was staying with him at the hospital, watching his IV drip and him sleep I wondered how I could ever explain to people what a great guy he is. The nurse came in to check on him and ask him if there was anything he wanted. Of course he said no but when I pressed him he admitted he would like to have a coke but he hated to waste a whole one and didn’t think he could take more than a few sips. That’s the kind of man he is. Unselfish and unassuming. He will go out of his way to do for you and go out of his way so you don’t have to do for him.

As the weeks go by I ask you all to pray for him and for our family. He is in for the fight of his life and we are all going to need your prayers to stay strong for him.