That was when I was 10. All of a sudden, I remembered what was going on in the first picture, which was about a year after the football game.

We were in South Dakota to see Mount Rushmore and a few different places in the Black Hills. One thing we did was take a hike around Lake Silvan because Mom thought the scenery would be nice. We climbed up one of the giant rocks that protrude into the lake, and Mom found someone that was willing to take our picture.

Once the picture was taken, Mom and Dad sat me and Mikey down on the rock next to each other, and they sat opposite us.

I could tell that they were going to tell us something sad, but I never expected that the news would leave such a lasting impact.

"Boys," Dad started, "your mother and I received some bad news a while ago, and we think it's only fair for you guys to know, too.

"About a month ago I went in for a doctor's appointment, and they noticed that there was a lump on my chest. They sent me to a different doctor that could see what was going on, and they found out that I..." Dad couldn't finish the sentence because he was crying. I had never seen him cry. He was always the one that I would go to when I needed something, so seeing him like this scared me.

"What your father is trying to say," Mom continued, putting an arm around Dad's shoulders, "is that the doctors discovered that the lump on his chest is..." Even she was having trouble saying it.

"Mom, what is it?" Mikey asked, slightly exasperated. "What did the doctor's find?" I was relieved he had asked because I didn't want to be the one to ask.

"The doctors found out that the lump is actually cancer." Mom looked like she was barely holding herself together.

"They have given me 2 months to live," Dad said, tears fresh in his eyes. "I want to spend as much of that time as I can with you guys."

There was a minute of silence while the news sunk in, but it didn't last long before I voiced my biggest concern.

"Wait, so the doctors aren't even going to try chemotherapy or anything?" I asked, shocked at what I was hearing.

"Well," Dad started, "they are going to try something, but they aren't sure that it's going to work because of how much the cancer has spread. If it does work, I'm probably going to have about 6 months, but the doctors aren't confident."

Mikey had been quiet since Mom had told us about Dad. I looked over at him and saw a single tear streak down his cheek.

"Mikey," Mom asked, "are you ok?"

"Does this mean that Dad won't be able to play baseball anymore?" Mikey questioned, concern written all over his face. He and Dad had a tradition of playing baseball on Saturdays. That was one of Mikey's favorite things.

Mom and Dad shared a look, clearly trying to figure out how to answer the question.

After a few seconds, Dad gave a sigh and tried his best to answer. "I'm still going to be able to play baseball, but, well, the medicine might make me a little slower."

When Mikey heard this, he leaned over and gave Dad a big hug. Dad hugged him back and that was when the tears started streaming down his face.

Looking at them hugging I realized that this was the last family trip we would take with Dad. He wouldn't be there for my first girlfriend. Or my last, for that matter. He won't be there for all the important events in my life.

"Gerard." Mom's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. She was kneeling on the rocks in front of me, one hand on my knee. "Are you doing OK?"

When I went to answer, all that came out was a sob. I didn't know I had started crying, but the tears were pouring down my face.

"I don't know," I sighed. I looked out across the lake, trying to imagine what my life would be like when Dad was gone. The only thing that I could understand was that my best friend wouldn't be there.

That was when I was 11.