Geoffrey

The day has come when it's no longer a matter of hoping and believing, but a matter of preparing and praying. You can hate me for saying this, but cancer is the victor. It doesn't always win, but it wins more than anyone ever should. And last Friday it won.

And this win hits closest to home.

I can remove myself from my own situation, from the cancer inside my own body - from my own battle. And I can take this time to be angry at your cancer, and what it has done to your body, your life, and your family that I love so much.

Even though I started the race first, it seemed you were the hare to my tortoise. You flew past me with speed, and strength, and positivity, and a pep in your step that I all too often couldn't muster. But you went down every road in life like that.

You cheered me on as you ran circles around me with your treatments, your pain, your disappointment, your victories, your bad news, and ultimately your encore.

I will keep at my tortoise pace, and I will always hear your loud and distinct voice cheering from the sideline.

His last text, which was a complete and utter lie. Things were not good.