Chocolate Cake Makes Everything Better

We've had a rather eventful few days.  Friday, my little brother Mason flew in from Arizona as a surprise.  Of course we turned it into quite the ordeal by dragging Dad up to the ski resort to watch the grandkids ski (or so we told him), only to have Mase add the finishing touch by skiing down for a surprise bear hug.  It was epic.

Dusty, Sam, and Will were apparently off in the woods when I took this picture.  I would have gone looking for them but I'm scared of woodland creatures. 

Dad's been saying for several days now that his hair has been feeling "dead".  Of course we all knew what that meant was coming.  Sure enough by Saturday evening, he was losing his hair by the fist full.  It was definitely time for the customary shave.  

I think every cancer patient dreads the loss of their hair.  Not because it's so unbearable to live without hair for a while.  It's because this stage somehow represents the fact that you're very very sick.  There are other things that obviously remind you of how ill you are, but this is a reminder to not just you.  It's a reminder to everyone around you.  I think no matter how many times you tell yourself that it's just hair, and that it will grow back, it's very difficult when the day actually comes.  you suddenly become a bona fide cancer patient.  And that's just plain hard.

So what do you do?  You turn it into a celebration.  You have a big party with awesome food and chocolate cake (there HAS to be chocolate cake).  You go outside in the dark and play in the snow with your headlamps on.  You sit around the dinner table and have the most hilariously inappropriate conversation you can possibly think of with your family.  You scare the pants off your brother's new girlfriend (well, we do at least - sorry Mase).  And then?  You have a ceremonial head shave.  You document it well, because you know that someday you'll all look back at this and laugh.  You shave it into a mohawk first.  I mean, everyone wonders what they'd look like with a mohawk, so here's your chance to find out.  Then you shave the rest.  You take pictures and laugh throughout the process.  And if you're Dad, you tell everyone that you've been looking forward to this day because you know it means the chemo is working and you're getting better.  Of course.  What else would you expect from him?  The glass is always ALWAYS half-full.

Check this out.  Dad's cousin from Belgium and his nephew from California shaved their heads in his honor and sent him their selfies.

How's that for loyalty?