The Good Stripper by Marci Warhaft

Author:Marci Warhaft
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sutherland House Inc

PART THREE

CASSIDY’S STORY

CHAPTER TWELVE

Not Myself Anymore

“SURPRISE!” the roomful of people shouted as I walked through the door!

“Holy crap!” I yelled back.

We had stopped to visit Nate’s family on our way to our new home, and it turned out that they had arranged a surprise party for my thirtieth birthday. I was truly surprised. It had all been cleverly arranged. Most of the guests belonged to my husband’s side of the family but I had a small circle of friends and family there, though I immediately noticed my sister’s absence. After greeting as many people as I could, I went into the kitchen and called her. Apparently, there had been a misunderstanding leading her to believe that the party had been cancelled. She wouldn’t be showing up. I spent the rest of the evening catching up with old friends.

A few days later, my husband left for our new home to unpack and prepare things for us. My recovery was slow but steady. My incisions made it difficult to stand straight and there was still pain when I moved, but I was proud of my progress. I was also proud of my body for all it had overcome. I had spent years judging my body on how it looked while completely ignoring how strong and powerful it was. I promised myself I’d never make that mistake again.

My son enjoyed his time with his adoring grandparents. They were excited to have us back east and closer to them. Barely having any family of my own, I appreciated how loving my in-laws were to their grandson.

The townhouse our friends had found for us was in walking distance from everything we could need. This was very important since I didn’t drive. I was more comfortable walking and taking public transportation. My son and I walked everywhere and got to know the neighborhood really well.

Once we were settled in our new life, I started thinking about my father. I hadn’t heard from him in years, not even when my mother died, but something in my gut told me to reach out. It wasn’t easy, since he had moved out of his apartment and I didn’t have his new number, but I eventually tracked him down. I was surprised to learn that he was living in a senior’s home. He was only sixty. His diabetes had rendered him blind and in poor health.

“I don’t want anything from you,” was the first thing out of my mouth when he answered his phone.

I made it clear that I wasn’t looking for money and had no interest in rehashing the past. The sole purpose of my call was to tell him that I was back in Toronto and to ask if he needed anything. He told me that he never had any visitors and was lonely. I felt compelled to offer him support. Being sick can be such a scary and isolating experience. We arranged for me to visit him the following week.

We hadn’t spoken in years. I felt compassion

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