A Year on this Journey
June 21, 2019. The day that started my spiral into depression caused by grief, the day that changed my life in a way that will never recover. The longest day of the year has become the longest day of my life. Today marks one year without my father, my best friend, the first man to love me unconditionally. Today is also Father’s Day. What a sick joke. Thanks universe.
This year has not been easy, and this week has brought everything to the surface. Over the last year, I have been diagnosed with stage four cancer, went through an IVF cycle, went through 6 rounds of dose dense chemo, cold capped to save my hair, went through genetic testing, found out I have the same genetic mutation that killed my father, had my 29th birthday, went through 6 breast MRI’s, one brain MRI, two PET Scans, a plural effusion that lead to a thoracentesis procedure, three different biopsies, two hospital visits, countless fainting spells, early menopause, countless shots in my butt, 35 radiation treatments on my breast and sternum, three (two more to go) radiation treatments on my sacrum and much much more. Even writing that massive sentence, I know I am missing other milestones of the last year. The hardest part of all of this has been losing my father.
With the year I have had, there’s times it felt overwhelming, hard, scary, and dark. Even through the brightest days, I have felt like something was/is missing. My whole life, every time something was wrong, or I needed help, my father was the first person I called. He carried so much wisdom, so much love, and always knew how to guide me to making my own decisions with all the facts. In an instance, that was all gone. It felt like I blinked my eyes and my father was gone.
On top of learning how to cope, in a healthy manner with my father’s passing, I soon had to learn how to cope with being diagnosed with stage four cancer. What. The. Fuck. To say I handle it with grace would be a complete lie. I was able to put on a mask for those around me to see the narrative I was comfortable with. One of strength and on days, that strength was real. On other days, I was at war with myself. My father’s death terrified me, and cancer paralyzed me with fear. How could I continue living in this world without my daddy? What was I supposed to do when I needed help? Maybe God gave me cancer so I could be with my dad again? Maybe it was my time. Some days I was comfortable thinking of the end, other days as these crept into my mind, I became scared. So scared that I wouldn’t sleep for fear of never waking up. I have gone many sleepless nights.
In this year of torment, I have learned a lot. First, no one will replace the special bond my father and I had. I have a lot of amazing relationships in my life, but nothing can even come close to comparing what I had with my father, and that’s okay. Just because there is a hole in my life, does not mean I need to fix it. Instead, I can be like swiss cheese and be loved for my holes. Second, I am incredibly lucky. I have been able to experience love and respect from a father that some people only dream about. Third, I have gotten to know love from friends, family, and even strangers on this journey. Most people have to wait until they are dead to know how they have impacted others; I have been able to see that firsthand this year and have been able to receive love back. It has been truly amazing. Fourth, I have been able to find help and support from a therapist. She has taught my healthy coping mechanisms and taught me that is okay to feel what I am feeling. I can lean into these emotions and learn from them. Fifth, life is too short to not enjoy it and not be authentic to who you are. I am continuing to work on this daily and live it. Sixth, tell people you love and care about them before it’s too late. Everyone should feel loved. Seventh, I am strong.
This past year has not been easy, but nothing worth having is. My life is worth having and I will continue to fight for it. The pain that I am feeling is increased because of the love I was able to have.
