nhl belly fire Yesterday was about detachment. Do you ever want to reach out to your father, your sister, your mother, and just hold them? Do you find that at the very same time you can't bring yourself to move toward them? And when you do your mother stands there, in your arms, lifeless. Yesterday was news day. The doctors said so many words, most of them new. I found myself awake most of last night trying to memorize the name of dad's cancer. As if that would make any difference - but to me, yesterday, it was all I had. The name of the thing that is killing my dad. Somewhere inside me I know that my dad is strong enough to live through this. But yesterday was about feeling 10 years old, stupid, and helpless. Yesterday was about a daughter being told her father has non-hodgkin's lymphoma stage 4. 050218 what's it to you? who go blather from