Che also dresses, sporting new "trendy" clothes, but wants to make certain the place serves French fries, which makes me laugh because I can remember when I was like that.
We're excited to try a new spot, "The Laundry Diner", which opened to rave reviews, the latest of a seeming endless selection of new restaurants.
It's a beautiful place, as we join the crowd waiting to be seated.
Sarah stands beside me dripping beauty. Che's holding my hand, happily dancing, approving the French Fries the Laundry Dinner serves.
I am delighting in these moments until, suddenly, I am not.
My head grows light, sweat pours from my body, and I have to sit.
Che pulls me outside and I plop on a stair, holding my head, trying to will myself back together.
Che runs back inside to report to Mom.
I manage to willpower myself back inside.
A man gives up his seat for me and almost as soon as I sit, a second wave hits.
Sarah sees I can't do it, grabs my arm, Che's hand, directs us back to the car and then back home, zipping through McDonald's on the way home because they're starving.
Freezing, I crawl under multiple blankets on an hot summer day and sleep.
The next day, my left hip erupts in discomfort every time I stand or walk. I can do both, but it hurts like Hell! I painfully stumble.
But it's the first week of school and Che's delightfully excited beyond belief.
We walk her to school each morning, and I somehow make it each time.
Sarah and I wonder if this is merely the latest "symptom" of all of my cancers, which is the logical and expected thing.
I fight to get back to where I was, which takes lots of effort, but yields few results.
Sarah breaks the melancholy by taking me on a date to see "Superman", the first movie we've seen in forever.
We throughly enjoy breaking our routine, diverting us from grave concerns, helping us greatly to celebrate still being here doing this.
I slowly improve.
Sarah has to work and I'm good enough to watch Che after school, even taking her to McDonald's for a Happy Meal.
Returning home, I struggle to walk from the car to the house, unable to keep up with Che, who's excitedly trying to open the front door without the key.
When I finally shuffle up, I see her, looking at me, worried and scared.
"Go on," I smile.
"I just want to protect you Daddy", she says hugging me, forgetting about her fries.
Days later, I've mostly rebounded, though we've learned that each time I get sick, I never quite make it all the way back to where I was before, and phantom pains when I stand and walk remind me that it can happen again at any time.
"Hey Dad," Che calls, after Sarah's home and we're happy about it, "do you want to go swimming?"
Hell no I don't want to go swimming!
It's been raining.
It's cool outside.
If I go swimming now I'll be freezing under multiple blankets the rest of the night.
"Da?" She calls again.
"Well Hell!" I tell myself, "this could be my very last chance to ever swim with Che. I'm not going to miss it, regardless of how bad I feel."
So we swam and it was magic.
And I froze all night under multiple blankets, and it was awful.
Such is life.
Now, I am better.
Not 100% because I'll never be that again.
And not back to where I was before, but close enough to feel it.
But most importantly, I'm still not dead yet, and our tiny little after party continues, until it doesn't.
******
My Celebration of Life is over while Sarah and Che have a whole new life together, coming soon and I want to make it special.
Please consider being part of their future at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b
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