To ALL the Wonderful Fathers

June 20, 2009

Tommorrow is Father’s Day.

Our minds automatically go to our families and what our fathers mean to all of us. I have a wonderful, kind, caring, generous, helpful and loving father. I can tell when he looks at me he wishes he could do something about this cancer. What he doesn’t know is that he does alot for me already. He is there for me–he has been with me on each surgery, and all the ups and downs of this disease, at just a moment’s notice. Just knowing he will be there to hold my hand gives me the confidence to push forward and to push harder when I feel discouraged. It just makes everything easier to have my family be so supportive. I’ve been very blessed– I have that kind of love not only from my father, but also from my mother, my daughters, my brothers, and all my friends. So many times I have felt I was simply carried through this, being lifted up and leaning on others around me.

Father’s Day also reminds me about all the fathers who are not here because of lung cancer. All the fathers who would have cherished more time, even if only a few more years, with their families. Although I’m thinking of many such men, I’m going to mention just two of the fathers that I met in the first few months after diagnosis.

The first that comes to mind is Kevin. Kevin had the same kind of cancer I had and was the first man I knew that had survived for a number of years. He was around my age and had a supportive family; a lovely wife and two young and busy teenagers. Kevin gave me inspiration that I could survive lung cancer. He listened to my all fears, answered my endless questions, had a wonderful smile and an infectious laugh. I remember asking him if he was afraid of dying. His answer truly impressed me. It was simply, “I don’t really think about it”. It was then I decided to think more about living and less about dying.

The second father was John. John and I were on the same clinical trial and spent most every Tuesday of 2002 meeting for infusions of chemo drugs and new CT scans. John had a beautiful wife and three children; two boys and one daughter. Although John loved all his children greatly, his daughter was certainly “Daddy’s Little Girl”. He was so very proud of his family. Almost every week, John would show me new pictures of his children and what they were involved with–either with friends, school or sports. I remember around lunch time, John would proudly get his carefully and lovingly packed lunch sent by his wife-full of healthy and nutritious foods to help him fight cancer cells. Just the way it was all packed and sent with love made John happy and proud of his family. He wanted so much to be there for his family for as long as they needed him. What stuck me the most about John was how bravely and earnestly he fought against cancer. He had such grace about him. I would easily fall apart and cry, it was difficult for me to even walk through the “Cancer Center” doors. John was calm and stotic. He made being there easier and I always looked forward to visiting with him. His wife and I have remained dear friends and sometimes we take fun trips together. I miss him greatly.

There are so many fathers that are taken by lung cancer too soon. Tens of thousands– over 70,000 EACH YEAR!! Tomorrow, while we are celebrating the fathers we have with us, let’s also remember the families that are currently dealing with the thought of losing a father, or have already lost their father due to lung cancer. This disease has cheated too many sons, daughters and wives of the men they desperately need. I can’t imagine going through this, or any of my other struggles, without my father and his loving spirit.

And that is what the LCFA is trying to do. Simply keep more families intact. Less deaths to lung cancer. However you want to look at it, our goal is to find cures and better treatments for lung cancer so that there will be many more years here with the people we love. We have to make sure we work hard enough and raise enough funds to find a cure so that more fathers are here to support their families and be there when they are needed the most.

We owe it to those we love to change lung cancer from a deadly disease to a curable disease.

That won’t happen by itself. We have to make it happen. We know we can change the course of a disease when we unlock the mysteries of that disease. We can do the same with lung cancer. It just takes more research. We owe it to those we love.