Who we love

Whenever we’ve faced cancer in the past, the inevitable conversations pop up. They are well-meaning, and always come from a place of love for our youngest, but they are hard. Usually they go something like this:

“Poor Neeks, it must be tough to watch your dad go through this.”

Or

“At least N and K’s dad is still healthy.”

So we say this with love, and hope it’s taken that way.

Rico has 5 children. 

For context, this is a photo of a Kaia the summer she met Rico:

She hadn’t  even lost her teeth.

This is Noah on one of our earlier road trips:

He still had a year and a half of elementary school left.

He is their dad. 

This is not to take anything away from their father, but to be clear, there is no stepdad/dad situation in this family. There is no less sadness, no less shock, no fewer hugs or tears. Rico is the man who taught them to drive and shave and make spinach puffs. He attended their school conferences, choir concerts, school plays. He threw a Halloween parties, and took Kaia out for a fancy dinner on her 13th birthday. He paid for braces, chaperoned field trips, piloted road trips. He’s seen them through confirmation, graduation, touring colleges. He’s given them a little sister, two puppies, a home, a shoulder to cry on and more belly laughs than we can count.

He is their dad. They have two, so they call this one Rico. He is loved beyond measure by all of us.

Emotional rant over. 

Today we are back at Mayo for a functional MRI. This will give the doctors a chance to see how his brain is lighting up while he performs certain basic tasks. The hope is that it will help the surgeons gather a better navigation plan for next Wednesday. He is so grateful for all of your kind words and wishes. We all are.