So I’m really, really furious at dad today. At 6.40 this morning he gave me a ring to tell me that he had just been into hospital. A few weeks ago they’d found what turned out to be a benign tumour, but which could have been anything but. And the bastard hasn’t said a peep about this to anyone. Not mum, not me, not his sister – not anyone.

I mean, we bicker like cats sometimes, but I don’t want him to frigging die from cancer, do I? They’re going to remove the tumour somehow – he wasn’t explicit about the how – but he says he’ll be all right and that it’s a routine thing.

Yeah, like they don’t always say that. But he could have told me before. I’m so annoyed with him now. I know we don’t get along, but he is my dad.

***

Thinking about it, we’ve had quite little to do with each other since the divorce became final. I still get my little monies every month, and we’ve chatted a few times, but it’s like we don’t talk to each other about anything – much less important stuff like this tumour thing.

I talk to mum every other day, but I chat for a few minutes with dad once or twice a month. It feels like he’s always too busy to talk now that he can devote all his time to the job. Or the new job. He told me this morning that he’s accepted to become a CEO now for a new company that some people he know have started. So he gets more pay, more responsibilities, but won’t have the status of working where he works now. He’s going to lord over like ten people, not the twenty-something he manages today.

And the new job is another thing he hasn’t mentioned before the fact. But that’s kind of normal. It just feels different with the tumour thing. He should have told someone. He should have told me.

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