A week ago, I found out that my dad had cancer. Not curable cancer but a cancer that started in his lungs and then has spread to his bones. It's treatment resistant, which really was very much in line for my stubborn father. Why get regular cancer, when you could get a stubborn treatment resistant cancer?

For days, I deliberated as to whether or not to contact him. The last time I spoke to him was 10 years ago. We had a rocky relationship to say the least.

Yesterday, I pulled my finger out and messaged him. It was hard. I asked when would be good to see him. He said whenever is good for you. Ok. Good to know. I replied and said I'll see you tomorrow. At 3am, he told me that sounds good.

Today, I went to see him. It was hard. I drove to the hospital and walked in. Checks and detail taking. Fine. All I could think about was am I going to be able to walk in or did I come all this way just to turn around and go home. The hallways seemed endless.

When I finally got to his room, I saw his fragile arms and hands. And I couldn't. This wasn't my dad. This wasn't the strong man I'd known my whole life. The man which nothing could ever touch. I sat outside his room and sobbed. I couldn't find the courage to walk in. I heard him coughing for a little bit and then a nurse came in. I heard his voice and while it was weaker, it was still the same.

I tried to find the courage and struggled. A nurse came to speak to me. He told me that it was going to be ok. Then he went in to see my dad and took the decision out of my hands and told my dad that I was there. Can't run away now, can I?

I walked in and saw a man that was my dad and wasn't my dad. A small frail man lay in the bed. I didn't know what to say. How are you? Stupid question. You're in hospital, how awesome could you be? But I asked that stupid question anyway. Anything to say something.

We exchanged small talk. But it was better than nothing. I shared my life. My life has been pretty boring lately. I tried but it was hard. We talked a bit more and I asked why he didn't tell me sooner. He replied that he thought he'd get better and he didn't want me to worry. It made me resent my cousin, uncle and auntie even more as she could have told me when he was first sick. Like time was stolen from me.

So far so good. Our relationship isn't completely mended but I hope we can salvage something in his short remaining time.