The call came on a Monday at 2:30pm.

It was my dad.

He'd been losing weight at warp speed.

The first doctors he saw, overwhelmed and run-down with covid patients, told him it was nothing to worry about.

They were wrong.

Further tests revealed he had stage 4 cancer.

He was calling to tell me that they told him to “get his affairs in order.”

That conversation took place four years ago.

A few weeks ago, after countless procedures, infusions, and lengthy hospital stays as the cancer had come back a second time, he finally got cleared to travel again.

He immediately bought a ticket to hang out with his grandkids in Spain.

Just like me and my brothers growing up, today he gave my kids an expert lesson on how not to catch any fish.

It was fun.

A day of days.

Something I didn't think I'd ever see.