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Danny comes to sweep the chimneys as he has for the past two autumns.
.
I make him tea with milk and a tiny bit of sugar which he forgets to drink.
.
He moves between the living room and the kitchen while I sit at my desk.
Once he’s exhausted how I am
and how the kids are
and how work is
and what kind of logs am I burning nowadays anyway
he asks how you are doing.
.
I tell him you died in March of bowel cancer.
.
He stops and looks at me.
His face goes slack.
He sinks to the sofa.
.
For a few seconds he cannot speak.
He is floored.
He looks at me from across the living room.
.
Finally he tells me how sorry he is.
.
He tells me he is sorry for swearing but that sometimes it is necessary.
He tells me that is fucking awful.
He tells me again that he is so sorry.
He tells me his son died of cancer at 18.
He tells me it found its way to his liver.
He tells me they caught it too late.
.
I’m sorry to hear that Danny, I say.
.
Are you angry? he says.
.
Sometimes I say.
I was.
Then I wasn’t.
Now I am again
a bit.
When I remember to be.
When I have the energy.
.
I’m angry
Danny says.
.
I understand I tell him.
.
You are holding so much for your children he says.
And yet you have your own grief also he says.
.
We cry in the car don’t we he says.
.
Yes we do I say.
.
Then he says:
Your children will be watching you and learning every second how to live through this they will see you and they will know they can do it because you are doing it and I hope you don’t mind me saying this because I know we don’t know each other but you are a fucking brilliant dad.
.
This is the third time I have met Danny.
.
Thank you I say.
.
He rubs his face.
It is streaked with soot.
His flat cap scrunched in his hand.
.
We are quiet for a moment.
.
How are you coping he asks me.
.
I write I tell him.
.
He nods.
That’s good he says.
.
That’s good.
.
My son he says.
Then falters.
.
He looks at the floor.
Then he looks back up at me.
I look at him.
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On Coping is my story of surviving on the sidelines of cancer.
It begins in March 2022 with On Coping #1, written the day after my 41st birthday. The day my wife Imogen, the mother of my three children, was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.
On Coping is the story of what happened next.
Beautiful, sad connection and understanding across the abyss.