And while you've been strong and stoic and awesome, I've been posting memories and pictures and videos that kiiinda make you wish you could cancel the internet.
So today, I will listen to you. (And it's only taken a day shy of 33 years.)
Here, for your hooked-up-to-chemotherapy viewing pleasure, is a video that the girls and I recorded shortly before bedtime last night.
Please excuse the lack of studio quality.
And the fact that one of us is in jammies.
And another has been having a day.
And the third really needs to pee. (I'll just let you try to Encyclopedia-Brown-out whom is whom.)
We love you, Pop/Dad. We all hope that this course of treatments knocked out the cancer from your awesome, dudely being. And that you feel better so, so soon.
Because if you don't, I might be forced to tell people that you were in an 8th grade band called Destiny's Children.
My hands are tied, here.
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