Sandcastles....

On Tuesday, June 21st, my FIL had his 1st chemotherapy session.  I was a nervous mess so I can only imagine how nervous my in laws were.  I called them in the morning to let them know I was on my way and my MIL sounded very somber.  Understandable.  I will say that he did VERY well during the session.  No adverse reaction to the chemo, no nausea, nothing.  I was happy about that.  That day was the 1st day in a long time that my FIL was himself again.  He was cracking jokes, giving me crap and just being dad. 

The day before Fathers' Day he expressed that he doesn't like to talk about it because he'd cry.  My FIL isn't one for hugging, kissing or being "lovey dovey"...he's Sicilian, what do you want?  Things changed on that front when his grandson was born.  He is ALWAYS hugging and kissing Dominic!!   The day of chemo I saw how scared he was when I walked into the house.  He didn't have to say a word, it was right there in his eyes.  I don't think anything can prepare you for a diagnosis like cancer.  When people ask me how my FIL is, or are his spirits up, I don't know what to say.  He says that we need to take things "day to day" and isn't completely negative about it but isn't positive either.  At least that's what I see or get from him.  He'll cry with my MIL and talk to her about it, but even with his own wife it's hard.  As he sat in the chair I pointed to my head and asked, "Dad, what's going on in your head?  How are you feeling mentally?"  He shrugged his shoulders, says "Ok" and asked for the remote to the tv.  I took that as "I don't want to talk about it..."  When Matt and I found out we were having a boy and I called everyone to share the news, my FIL's response?  "I could care less Ang"... translation in Sal's way... "I don't care what we get as long as it's healthy."  That's just how he is.  It makes me sad that he doesn't talk about it.  As long as he does express things to my MIL, that's all that matters.

Have you ever been to the beach on a family vacation?  Sunny and warm.  You pick the perfect spot to build a sandcastle.  You work so hard on it, little windows, doors, make sure the edges are perfect.  Then your shit little brother/sister or some idiot kid jealous of your work of art comes along and just stomps on your creation, kicks it down, laughs and runs away?

This is the only way I can describe how I think my FIL is feeling.  He's built a life with my MIL, had 2 kids who now have great jobs, they can fend for themselves.  Then along comes a grandson, his best friend, his everything.  Life is perfection and great...... then BAM... sidelined and the sandcastle crumbles.....