One of the things that came up when we got pregnant is how to explain my dad to our children. I lost my dad at the age of seventeen to lymphoma (www.lymphoma.org) and somehow I wanted to incorporate him into our children's lives. This blog is not just to help the parents explain something similar to their kids but also for the people who are struggling with cancer, those that have loved ones with cancer, those that beat cancer, and even those of you who do not have cancer and know nobody with cancer. It is to share my story and hopefully touch the lives of others and help people who are struggling with ways to deal with such an awful disease. I would love for people to share their stories on this blog, suggest sights for people who wish to donate or support the cure for cancer, and to really take into heart my personal story with such a hard subject.
When I was seven years old my mom and my dad were in the middle of a divorce. I did not know at the time that my dad had also just found out he had cancer and to be honest I don't even know when I found out. He moved out and we moved on. My mom struggled, being a single parent, and for most of my teen-age years I shared a room with her. My brother got the other room because he was older and a male. We went from apartment to apartment while my mom worked two jobs and my aunt babysat us. My dad stayed in Oregon and saw us when he could. My dad became a very heavy drinker. (www.alcoholismtreatmentcenters.com if you or somebody you know has a drinking problem there is help out there. Use your resources and don't let this awful disease take you away from those around you)
My dad also smoked cigarettes like nobodys business. He would pick my brother and I up and I remember trying to hold my breath for as long as I could so I would not have to smell the cigarettes pouring out of the ashtray right next to the open can of Coors. Don't get me wrong, my dad was not a terrible dad this was just his way of coping with the fact that he was very sick. Being as young as I was at the time my family tried to protect me by not telling me the seriousness of my fathers illness. It was not until I was seventeen (ten years after) that my family ended up having to tell me because my dad was in the hospital getting a brain tumor removed. I can't tell you how this made me feel except it made me hurt on the inside that nobody had told me, they had guarded me from the truth and now here I was, at the age of seventeen, waiting for the doctors to cut open my dads head. Even then nobody told me really what was going on. My dad was so strong. He came out of surgery just fine. He made jokes with me to cheer me up, he was released from the hospital and I thought that everything was going to be fine. I remember the last ten days of my dads life better then anything else. We went shopping and my dad was walking very slow. He was stubborn as a mule though and would not let me help him. I remember him picking up a milk carton and dropping it in the middle of the floor. He tried to pick it up but couldn't make it and he seemed embarrassed by this. I don't think he wanted his daughter to see him so vulnerable. It was right then, when the milk hit the floor, that I knew something bad was about to happen. Three days later my dad was in the hospital and this time my family finally decided to let me know that he was not going to be coming out of the hospital.
"Stay strong" my mom said. They all decided to pretend he was not dying so I would go visit and my dad would help me with my math. I went to school and then the hospital. My dad got more weak every day I saw him and my heart was breaking. I can not tell you in words what it is like to see your parent dying. There are no words. I wanted it to go away. I prayed to god every night asking him to not take my dad. Unfortunately this was one prayer that could not be answered. The last time I saw my dad he was laying on his bed. I took his hand in mine and sat there, the rain falling outside as if the whole world was crying. In my mind I knew I could no longer go back. I was folding inside and I wanted an escape. I didn't want to see my dad in pain and I think he knew this. He went to pick up a magazine and the whole stack fell off his night table, as the stack fell my heart broke, and I opened my tears up to everyone who could see them. I called my mom and told her that I couldn't do it. i was scared, I was upset, i was sad, I was angry, and I was dying on the inside right along with my dad. My mom told me to say my good-byes.
I remember the night he passed away as one of the worst nights of my life. I needed a break (which sounds selfish of course, considering) so myself and three of my girlfriends met at our local hangout Applebees (www.applebees.com). We ordered and a server came up to tell me I had a phone call. I did not want to go answer because I just knew and I was right. I rushed home and my mom and brother were there to take me into their arms. We sat in the driveway for a long time and just cried. My dad was alone for the first time in ten days and had passed away with nobody in the room with him.
I struggled so much with this news that I abandoned my life. I no longer talked to my uncle on my dads side, I pushed away friends, I pushed away god, and I wanted nothing to do with anyone. I blamed myself for my dad dying alone. I hated god for taking him. I didn't want to talk to anyone and I became very self destructive on the inside. It took me ten years to realize that I was so lucky to have this man as my dad for the seventeen years that I had him. He taught me to be strong, I inherited his stubbornness, his laugh and his smile was contagious, and the bond we shared was unbreakable. Even with death I know that my dad is a part of me no matter where I go. There are so many regrets when someone dies, the what ifs, the I should haves, and the why didn't I's but you can't beat yourself up for life on what you could have done. The past is unchangeable but the future is key. The biggest impact my dads death had on me was all the regret it caused. My mom wished she had of known and not divorced him, my brother wished he could have cared for my dad more, I wished that I hadn't thrown years of my life away by blaming the world for my dads death. Ten years and I realized I couldn't hide forever and he was never going to come back. I talked to my uncle (his brother) for the first time in years. I told my brother how proud dad would be of him, I asked my brother to walk me down the aisle in place of my dad, and now I am at the point where I need to explain to my kids who their grandpa is.
I asked for advice from friends and family. Some said that there is no reason for them to know, but to me there is no way of not telling them. It's a major part of me, it helped make me who I am today and someday down the road I am sure I will see some of my dad in my children. Another person told me take my kids to a funeral parlor and explain it to them like that. Many people told me to wait until they are teenagers. However, I found that I want my kids to grow up knowing who he is. I can't possibly take down all the pictures of my dad in fear of them asking who he is. I can't erase my dad from my life until my kids become teen-agers, and I really wanted them to grow up knowing him. It's hard enough not having him here to hold them or play with them. Finally I came up with my own plan. Right now I always show my son a picture of my dad and tell him "grandpa". He is only one but I figure this will help him put a face to a name and help in the long run. When he starts to understand things then I am going to tell him that god needs us a little early sometimes and that god needed his grandpa Rick to be an angel. I would let them know that grandpa Rick is their guardian angel and that way they have the freedom to ask me questions about who he was, what he was like, and along the way explain heaven. I know there are many out there who do not believe in god but I really, without pushing, would like my kids to believe in him.There were many times that I questioned why god was doing something and even though I don't have the answers to everything I feel blessed by the people who are in my life now and knowing that he will always be close. These past few years are the years that I started accepting what happened. There will always be days that are rough like my wedding day, holidays, birth of children, etc. but I have found that god blessed me with a beautiful family to get through those rough times. Eventually I plan on spending some time doing fund raisers for cancer awareness and having my children participate so that they know the importance of giving. I hope this helped some of you through some part of life or touched your hearts for other reasons.
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