Aside from feeling miserable and sick, the man flu kept me away from my dad, which was a huge emotional bummer. He is receiving chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer. Every other Friday I spend the whole day with him helping him do his delivery job. I do the driving and lifting. As I was unwell, and he has virtually no immune system, I could not risk his health by spending the day in a truck with him. Neither could I even risk spending the afternoon on the couch with him watching the footy, which is something else we regularly do together. I missed him, and at a time when I fear the chemotherapy is not helping, and I may soon lose one of my best friends.
Today, we were reunited: visiting homes and farms, from Bowral in the southern highlands, down to Yass, delivering fresh meat for people's pet dogs. The job is mundane, mostly, but we talked a lot about sport, politics, work and matters of the heart, and I am very grateful for the time with my dad. He needs my help and I am happy to do it. That's what I'm thankful for today.