Posing for his stepdaughter's first prom picture wasn't easy for Gordon Everett. He felt so tired.

He didn't have the energy to put on his shoes. He had spent most of the day in bed, weakened by the chemo-therapy drugs.

But this would be his only chance to see one of his daughters off to a formal dance. He roused himself and stood in front of the camera.

"I looked like a skeleton," Gordon recalls. "But I was there."

Terminal lung cancer almost certainly will keep him from being there for his children's future successes and moments of need. But Gordon, 56, is determined to make the best of the short time he has left.

Since doctors diagnosed his Stage 4 lung cancer, Gordon has been a more prominent presence in the Everett household.

Before, Gordon commonly came home from work exhausted. He wasn't always ready for meaningful time with his children.

Alexis Woodruff, his 15-year-old stepdaughter, recalls dinner conversations in which everyone would take a turn sharing the best and worst parts of the day.

"His high was always, 'The day's not over yet,'" she said. "And his low, 'The day's not over yet.'"

That constituted Gordon's primary interaction with the four children  Ñ two daughters from his wife's previous marriage, a third daughter fathered by Gordon, and an adopted 2-year-old son.

Now it's rare for Alexis, Karli, Piper or Lucas to come home and not find Gordon hunkered down in an easy chair or shuffling around the kitchen.

These days he's there when the children get ready for school. He's there when they come home for the day. Instead of scattering after dinner, family members play board games or listen to Gordon tell stories about his childhood, such as watching Neil Armstrong walk on the moon.

Although the prospect of losing Gordon has been hard on the family, Tonya Everett says it has helped them focus on enjoying their time together.

"Those things you always say you want to do together, well, you stop saying, 'Oh, we can do that later,'" she said. "The days go by so fast."

The children recognize that, too. Gordon and 9-year-old Karli share a love of gardening. They spent many days planting flowers behind the old family home in Grants Pass. Gordon's cancer has kept him from muddying his green thumb as much as he would like, but Karli has found other ways to share life with her stepdad.

Gordon has to take a lot of medicine in addition to his chemotherapy treatment. Despite initial reluctance, Karli has learned to give the injections.

"I liked learning how to do it," she said. "Like when it hurts, you say, 'Oh, sorry.'"

Alexis has helped care for Gordon, too. She also has benefited from having more time with him. He has given her pointers on dishwashing, laundry and driving. When the family went on a couple of road trips this summer, she spent some time behind the wheel.

"It was pretty decent," she said.

 On the second trip, Piper lost her first baby tooth. Gordon's illness gave the event special significance, Tonya said.

"It was something bigger than just losing a tooth," she said.

As Gordon looks forward to sharing more such moments with his children, he can't help thinking he'll miss many more of them. His frustration, combined with the side-effects of chemotherapy, can make him difficult to be around, Alexis said. Sometimes he'll scold the girls for leaving a mess at the table or point out their flaws.

"Things get on his nerves that wouldn't bother the old Gordon," Alexis said. "He's not himself."

 Sometimes she'd rather go off and be with her friends. But she can't escape the reality of Gordon's illness.

"Some days I forget about it, and then I feel bad because I did," she said.

That's a common feeling for the families of terminal patients, said Amanda Whitlatch, a social worker who is working with the Everetts.

A difference with Gordon is that he has such young children. So there is a greater sense of urgency in making sure the life lessons stick.

When Gordon is gone, he won't be there to share their happy moments or their fears. That's what Tonya is going to miss when she loses her husband.

"I'll miss having a partner, the support system and having a father for the children," she said.

Grasping what's happening is harder for the younger children, but Alexis understands. She won't be able to talk with Gordon about gymnastics, the sport in which he excelled, and which he passed on to her. He won't attend her high school graduation or wedding.

So, even though he looked far from his best, she realized what it meant to have Gordon climb from his bed to share her first prom photo.

"If I had to have a moment with him, that was it," she said.