Mother tells me that the doctors have proclaimed him terminally ill. Said it was some sort of lung cancer that I can't spell much less say. They say with treatment he has a few months, perhaps a little longer, but it's too far gone and hit stages he can't bounce back from.
He didn't even know, until a knot developed under his arm, just beneath his arm pit. It grew sore to the point that even my "Fuck those goddamn quacks!" father finally had to give in and go see the family's physician. She said it was lanced and then tested, the results of which have left my family shattered.
I know we all disagree with the choices he's made and how he tries to rule us in attempts to make us do what he wants, but I always envisioned him ruling the clan with an iron fist until he was too decrepit to move.
Now... now, I wonder just how long I have to tell him all the things I've never said and if I'll get to chance to say them all.
Ryo, would you take a walk with me around the city proper tonight? There's much I need to be telling you and no better place to say it than beneath the light of the moon with the magic of Ireland filling the air around me.