For a few years, my husband and I have planned to move to Australia, where he’s from. A couple months ago, we finalized the plans, bought the tickets, and set a date for September 17 - in time for my mother-in-law’s 70th birthday. We’ve been really excited and have had all sorts of fun daydreaming about where we’re going to settle, looking at properties online, and basically enjoying the fact that we have a whole new adventure in front of us.
Meanwhile, my father-in-law was diagnosed with prostate cancer. That wouldn’t change our plans, though. He was responding well to treatment; everything looked positive.
Last night, my MIL called. My FIL has now been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. If you know anything about that disease, it’s a relatively quick (probably a few months), very painful death. There’s a very good chance he won’t make it until September and all he wants is to see his grandson, our boy.
So, we’ll be out of here in about a month - the shortest time we can possibly get all the loose ends tied up - my son’s passport, selling our car, notice for my husband’s job, getting rid of all our stuff, etc. We’ll have to leave behind our beloved dog, because we won’t have time to do all the processing it would take to import her. (We’re leaving her with very good friends of ours who are the doggiest of dog people and absolutely love her, so she’ll be okay.)
This just sucks. Not only because, obviously & most importantly, my FIL’s illness and the fact that my husband is griefstricken. But also because what was going to be such a happy, new adventure is now so sorrowful. And I’ll miss my puppy.
So, I guess I’ll get to meet some of you Australian dopers at the next Dopefest Down Under. Wish us luck.