a distant memory

My father knew he only had a few months left to live. The announcement at the oncologist’s office a few months earlier had been for me like a direct punch to the stomach and I can only imagine how he must have felt. I went back to work that afternoon in shock and recall my father's usual stoicism as the doctor calmly explained things to him. It might have seemed like he quickly resigned himself to his reality but leaving his family behind must have been heart wrenching.

Some months later I was driving my parents north of Montreal in the beauty of the Laurentian autumn foliage and Mozart’s C Minor Mass was playing on my car’s cassette player. My father was looking out onto the vista with a look of wonderment as if he had never seen such beauty before.

I will never forget the look on his face.

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