My Father's Journal, Epilogue: "My Cancer"

My friends, we have reached the final entry in my father’s journal of his battle with cancer.  

 

I want to thank all the readers who have commented and read his thoughts these last few weeks. 

 

I have shown my dad all your responses, and words, and they have meant the world to him. 

 

To know that his thoughts have meaning, and are valued by others, has been a real lift for him during this terrible fight.  

 

We both, humbly, thank you all. He wishes you all well!

 

 

My Cancer

 

By Ken Muir

 

I have long watched this train wend its way across the prairie. At times only the engine’s curling smoke is visible, as the train dives out of view into a valley or ravine. At other times the entire conveyance is visible above ground, working its way toward me as I stand on the platform of this small, lonely station.

 

Moments ago the locomotive rounded a final bend, its great yellow headlamp glaring. It surges into the station, dwarfing me with its bulk and noise. The engineer leans forward, pulls a lever, and vents steam all around with a hideous shriek.

 

Flinty-eyed, he looks down at me….”Your ride is here…”