I put the car in park, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My eyes, hidden behind my black sunglasses, scan the park. I spot them at the swings, a wide grin on a small face with bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. James was the spitting image of his father. I don't resent the resemblance like some mothers I've talked to. I cherish it. Especially now. Every little boy should look like his father. I could see James laughing and followed his gaze to John. My sweet John. We've been married almost six years, but have known each other almost ten. We met my freshman year in college and the moment I laid my eyes on him, I knew I couldn't look at anyone else.

I swallowed hard, blinking rapidly at the oncoming tears I can feel trying to rise to the surface. How was I supposed to do this? How was I supposed to tell him? Tell them both? I thought hard on any easy way to blurt out the words that will change everything, but my mind was blank. There was no instruction manual for this.

I unbuckled my seat belt and slowly got out of my car. The light spring breeze felt warm after such a harsh winter. I closed my eyes and faced the warm rays, soaking up courage and strength to speak the words I had to say. I locked my car and headed toward the boys. My boys. I took two deep breaths and let them out slowly, reminding me of my Lamaze classes when I was pregnant. Like breathing could change what was about to happen, what was about to change. If only something as simple as breathing could stall the oncoming pain. In this case, maybe it would.

I tried instead to focus on the nature around me. I could smell the freshly mowed grass, the green a welcome sight. I could hear the birds singing and swooping in and out of the giant trees placed sporadically around the park's lawn, happy to be free after such a long absence. The pops of color from the freshly planted flowers brings a small smile to my face. I've always loved flowers and planting. There's something about pushing my hands into the fresh soil that grounds me and gives me hope.

I finally make it to the swings and my hands start to shake. I stuff them in my pockets and try to put on a brave face.

"Mommy!" James squeals in delight. He might look like John, but I know who his favorite is.

"Hey baby", I smile at him. John had stopped the swing so I could reach down and pick up James. I hug him to me, his head resting on my shoulder, and breath in his scent. Tears spring in my eyes again, but I stop them before they fall, hiding them from both my boys. I look over at John and can see him smiling down at us.

"How'd your appointment go?" he asked. He takes a step forward and kisses me in greeting. I smile up at him.

"Uh, it was fine." I said a little too brightly. James starts wiggling in my arms.

"Down!" he demands. The moment I release him, he shoots off toward the slide, his little legs propelling him forward. As I look back at John, I realize this is the moment. I need to tell him before too much time has passed, and we are alone. I know I have to tell him, but my mouth doesn't want to form the words. Instead I stall by asking him about work. I try to follow along as he tells me about his office antics, but he can tell I'm distracted.

"What's wrong? You've been half listening to me for the past 5 minutes and you're bitting your lower lip. What's worrying you?" His concerned eyes seek mine and I can no longer hide my tears. One tear slips, and then another. He pulls me to him and I rest my forehead on his chest as his powerful arms hold me to him. This is what I loved most about John. Instead of demanding an answer right away, he holds me and patiently waits until the tears slow. I back up from him and wipe my eyes and cheeks.

John’s eyes bore into mine, trying to read the message kept there. I take a deep breath, building the courage from deep inside, and in a whoosh, expel the words quickly, "It's cancer. I have cancer."