No postcard today.

My brother called last night after 10pm. I just knew, this would have to be about dad.

First it was a matter of establishing what both of us already knew. I had spoken to Dad on Saturday, when he received my Father's Day card, and having found out he was ineligible for the trials in Tampa and Baltimore, he was back on a cocktail of drugs that had helped him about before, only mixed differently. That's what we both knew.

C filled me in on what happened today: daily blood transfusions necessary in order to survive. There's a 1 in 20 chance this drug cocktail will better his prognosis. There was other information too--I didn't process it all--because then C got to, "he has weeks to months to live."

I knew someday a prognosis of a fixed time was coming--and that our dad may have known one all along, but wasn't revealing it--but to finally hear it, it seemed unbelievable. Yes, all signs have pointed to this is where he's going. This was all expected, on some level.

C says Dad was upset. Crying. He must be so scared, and that's what upsets me the most, I think even more than losing him--he's not prepared for this. I don't want him to be scared, don't want him to be living out the end of his life in fear.

After we spoke, I noticed Dad had called me while I was in class. I'm glad I wasn't able to pick up that call. I wouldn't have known what to say or do. I don't know what I can do to provide my dad with any sort of comfort or happiness. And I don't think that's just something in the wake of death, but instead it's been a long time since we've communicated in a way that has allowed us to really support one another, or to make each other happy. I want to do whatever is possible to make this better for him, but I have no idea how.

He called this morning. Still upset, but perhaps not as much as he was when speaking to C. He says he's not afraid to die, but I'm not sure I believe him. But he's worried about leaving us and H. Again, I think the worry only extends to H, and I don't say this to be insensitive or fault him in any way. I think he realizes that my brothers and I are going to be okay. We have support systems. H doesn't. As Dad said, she has no friends, and is estranged from her family. I am sure their decision all these years to keep to themselves/live for each other plays a huge role in that, but there could be other reasons too, of which I'm not aware. I told Dad that "we'll work something out." I feel bad for H and honor her dedication and care toward my dad throughout his illness, but I'm not sure what my brothers and I can really provide for her once he's gone. Sometimes I feel the dysfunction cannot be solved with a phone call to see how she's doing. Or maybe something so simple really is the solution?

I think we're flying to Miami tomorrow--C is figuring out flights today.

Fuck.