Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Cancer. My dad has been diagnosed with B type Hodgkins Lymphoma and my mind is racing a mile a minute. I just received a phone call from my mother telling me the news, and I can’t quite wrap my mind around what she was telling me.

People that know me and my background know that I don’t often hear from my mother. Seeing their phone number appear on the Caller ID immediately makes me think someone in the family was seriously injured in an accident, is very ill or dead. I haven’t heard from my father since 1995, because I chose to leave the religion I was born into, and the results of that choice were automatic and immediate.

In the eyes of my father and most of my siblings, I died in 1995. All because of my personal decision to leave a religious organization I no longer wanted to be a part of. My mother tends to think of me as being in some sort of coma, hoping that I’ll somehow “come to my senses” and take the required and necessary steps to rejoin the religion.

Doing so would mean I would have been miraculously “resurrected from the dead”, where family members and old friends (who haven’t spoken to me since 1995) would suddenly welcome me back with open arms. Not gonna happen. Ever.

My parents live in Dallas, which is only about a 30-minute drive from our house. Having family members living in such close proximity to our house, but rarely hearing from or seeing any of them, is something I’ve never quite gotten used to. The wounds from the past run very deep, and try as I may to “forgive and forget” everything that happened, forgiving and moving on is easier than the ability to actually forget.
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