When I heard the following story on National Public Radio, I was deeply moved. What moved me was the beauty of expression in the words the father below used to describe the separation of himself from his wife when she came down with cancer. Then, towards the end of the piece, I was struck by the words he used to described his daughter and how his wife seemed to be embodied in her.

    • Cancer Splits A Devoted Couple, But Not A Family
    • in 1997, Pat was diagnosed with multiple myeloma — a type of blood cancer.
      Remembering those days, Yvette asks her father, “What went through your mind then, when she became sick?”
    • “It was like we were in two canoes on a stream, and all of a sudden there was a split — a fork in the stream — and she took one line, and I took the other,” he says.
      “And for a long time we would paddle together, you know? We could hold hands. Gradually the streams kind of moved away, and we could no longer hold hands, but we could look at each other and talk to each other. And then we got farther and farther away, until we just lost each other.”
    • “And it’s hard to forget her, because she sculpted a life in you,” he says. “You are her handiwork, and whenever I look at you, I remember your mother.”
      Produced for Morning Edition by Nadia Reiman. The senior producer for StoryCorps is Michael Garofalo.