My dad is not going to be at my wedding. It's taking me a while to swallow this. I worked hard guilting him into the plane journey, he'd tried on an old suit, tickets were close to booked...
and now he has the worst skin cancer you can get, at stage 3 nearly 4, deep in his hand which requires surgery. Doctor won't let him postpone it. My dad needs a walker to get around, so after having surgery on the 26th, there is no way he'd be well enough then two weeks later to fly.
I'm sad. I knew deep down he would come, even if it took a lot of convincing, as he wouldn't want to miss my wedding. Now, its out of his control. It's very possible that two of my close friends who wanted to come as well might not make it either. Overlooking the other depressing fact that an old friend, nearly a sister, has made no effort to contact me ever since not seeing us during our visit at Christmas... sigh. Anywho, this is not to say I don't value my new-ish friends I have in Ireland, Cormac's family, and my mom. It just really draws a thick line between this life and who I am now, and my life in America. I hate that. I wanted it to be the one time when things were one.
Moving along. Business just keeps getting better, a big cake order came in for the weekend on top of getting an invite in on Ardkeen market this weekend and at Easter (although I'm not going to take them up, I've obligated to Clonmel for that weekend). Ikea Saturday instead of Sunday, so. Woot.