no one saw this coming.
There's an ugly cry coming. I can feel it. It's crept up a few times and I've managed to fight it off, but it's coming. And it's going to be Ugly. It has been two weeks since Mom's surgery. We didn't really talk much about the surgery beforehand. I don't think anyone wanted to address our fears head on or talk about the 'what ifs' so we just didn't really talk at all. The only reason that was okay was because we have done a lot of talking in the last 333 days. 333 days. That's how many it's been since our world stopped spinning; since cancer started to manipulate most of our thoughts and consume our emotions. Three hundred and thirty three days. For 333 days we have all woken up and our first thought was immediately 'Mom is dying.'. For 333 nights my Dad hasn't slept; lying awake paralyzed with fear of losing his best friend. For 333 days my Mom worked tirelessly to find doctors; the right doctors. She worked her finge...