Who Wants To Live Forever...

Father To Son - Part 3

Above photo:   Harold May during his service in World War II

A/N -  I just want to remind everyone that I am not a medical expert and I am speculating on details regarding known facts.  I know that Felix was actually born 10 weeks premature, but do not know the details surrounding it.  I know that Brian's father had lung cancer but there are no real details known about his illness.  Please keep this in mind when reading.  Thanks.

** Please note the unique changes in POV that take place in this chapter.

1st September 1985

London

Brian's POV

My father has lung cancer.  It was my worst imagined fear as a child, and it had come to fruition.  I looked at my mother with a mix of disbelief and growing anger.  I let go of her hands and took a step back from her.  Not really wanting to accept what she had told me and still knowing it was the truth.  It made sense despite me not wanting to believe it.  The lingering cough he'd had since last Christmas.  Being more tired than usual.  His appetite not what it once was.  I had not seen him as much as I'd like to in the past year but had seen enough and heard enough from my mother to know the signs were there.   

"How bad is it?"  I finally asked my mother.  Saying the words brought with it a semblance of acceptance.  My mother looked at me intently.

"They said it's only in his lungs and there was talk about removing one of them..."  she advised.  I tried to imagine only having one lung and it felt daunting.  I knew both of his lungs couldn't be in great shape since he had smoked all of his adult life.  "Your father told them he didn't want that and would agree to treatment..."  she explained.  "He's having radiation right now and there is talk of chemotherapy..."  she advised.  

"What are his chances?"  I asked with trepidation.  Knowing he wouldn't have any surgery, I felt he was limiting his chance at a longer life.  My mother's face was solemn as she looked at me.

"Not the best I'm afraid..." she told me truthfully.  The reality of him having limited time on this earth set in as I looked in her eyes.  Seeing the sorrow those words brought to my mother.  I took a step towards her and pulled her into my arms.  Needing to comfort her and wanting her comfort in return.  I ignored the space inside me that was angry at my father for smoking all those years and focused on my mother.  She was losing her husband and there was nothing she could do about it.

"I wish you would have told me..."  I whispered to her.  Despite wanting to shout and scream at her for keeping this from me, I knew that emotion was not what she needed right now.  I held her tight in my arms. 

"I'm sorry Brian..."  she said back.  "Your father didn't want you troubled with this until we knew what the treatment might offer him..."  she explained.  "I wanted to respect his wishes..."  she advised.  "Please know that I would have told you otherwise..."  she assured me.  

"I know you would..."  I agreed and tried to understand my father's reasoning and my mother wanting to honor his request.  

"You've got so much you're dealing with right now and he didn't want to add to your worries..."  she stated.  I understand that to a point.

"That doesn't mean I don't worry about him anyway..."  I pointed out.  "Or you for that matter..."  I reminded her.    "How are you doing with all this?"  I questioned.  My mother loosened her hold on me and let out a weary sigh.  She sniffled as she reached for the ever-present tissue she kept tucked inside the pocket of her cardigan.  

"I'm soldiering through..."  she replied and tried to smile as she wiped at her tear-stained eyes.  "I don't have a choice really..."  she remarked as she clenched the wet tissue in her hand.