A Family Tradition
My uncle has brain cancer. We made a trip to Guymon in the Oklahoma panhandle to visit him this weekend–my brother, my niece, my husband and me. It was really kinda fun to spend that much time together–Georgene and I sat in the back of a very large vehicle and knitted and we all talked and laughed and reminisced. We drove out Thursday afternoon and came back Friday.
We are definitely sad that our uncle is dying, but we have a certain amount of respect for him because he is going on his own terms. He smokes and he’s always smoked. He loves smoking–he quit for a while when his wife had lung cancer and he took care of her until her death in 1995. Then he sorta took it up again with a vengeance. Last year when he was diagnosed with lung cancer, he chose to not go through all the rigamarole of chemo and radiation like his wife and his sister, and he “damn sure” didn’t want to end up in a nursing home like his folks, so he’s going out on his own terms. What a guy. He told his doctor he really appreciated the breathing machine the doctor prescribed because it helps him enjoy his cigarettes more.
Anyway, there he was, laying in bed, with one foot sticking out from under the covers. His foot looked just like his dad’s–and I told him that I’d had to teach my husband the secret of sleeping with one foot out from under the covers. He said, “Doesn’t everyone do that?” I said, “Only if they’re in our family.” We took a poll–both of his kids do it, my brother does, his daughter, me, my husband, now that I’ve taught him, I know my mom did, and I know her dad did. We had a laugh. Other families have great and glorious traditions–we just have regulating our sleeping temp with a foot out from under the covers. But we all agreed it’s a valuable skill.