There are thousands of people affected by cancer every year. That’s including the patients, families, and friends. I used to think that my family and I would never be one of those thousands. Turns out I was wrong. In February of 2014, my dad got diagnosed with brain cancer.

My dad was never really sick. Sure, he would get colds but not a serious illness. Then he started acting off. He would obsessively clean one thing that was already cleaned and he had urinary incontinence. When we saw these symptoms we knew something was wrong so my mom took my dad to go to the hospital to get checked out while I was at school. I knew something happened when my sister Ashley picked me up from school with my other sister Alexis to go straight to the hospital. We got to Southwest Hospital and found my dads’ room that he was in where he was already admitted. We waited for the doctor to come in with the results of all the various tests they did earlier. When the doctor finally came in he asked, “Is it okay to say what’s going on in front of your children, or do you want them to go outside and you explain what’s going on?” My mom said it was fine. The doctor explained that my dad had a brain tumor on his frontal lobe and my dad made this joke about how we were going to pull a “Breaking Bad” scenario trying to lighten up the mood. The doctor continued to say what the treatment plan was going to be (radiation and chemotherapy).
Over the next month he finished radiation and chemo and was put into a home to stay at to constantly get treatment he needed. He had his own room and he got to decorate it and bring things to make it seem like home. The people at the home seemed nice but not very attentive to the patients which my family thought was a little weird. Every day after school till about early June we would go to the home to visit my dad for a few hours. Some days were good and some were bad. One day, my mom and Alexis went to go get my dad something and my dad wanted to go “ride” around in his wheelchair so we went and circled around the center and looped back to the room where my mom and Alexis were waiting for us. That was one of the best moments at the home. Then all of a sudden things got worse. My dad got thrush and he got very sick out of nowhere. At this point my family and I were very confused because he seemed fine not too long ago. But then he kept getting worse. After noticing that he wasn’t going to get better, he got moved to hospice. Hospice is essentially a place where people that are dying go to pass away peacefully. Or at least that’s how I thought about it at 12 years old. When he moved to the hospice we were all confused because that week they told us that he might be able to move back into our home to be comfortable and surrounded by family but that wasn’t the case. On June 27, a lot of family friends visited him to say their goodbyes. That night my mom, my sister and I sat around my dad and started saying OUR goodbyes. It was very emotional and everyone was crying but it felt like closure. Ashley dropped my sister and I home to my grandma and we fell asleep. The next morning, my mom woke me up and I instantly knew. My mom still told me that my dad passed away late at night. She pulled me in for a hug but I had no more tears to cry.
Not long after that we set up the memorial. The service was at New Heights Church, where we usually went to every Sunday, and many people came. After the pastor, my mom, Ashley, and my godfather gave their speeches we went back to my house for the party. The party was huge. All my dads’ close coworkers, friends and his family was there. The party lasted till late at night and then it finally sunk in that my dad wasn’t coming back. He would never see me go to high school, graduate high school or walk me down the aisle when I got married and I finally realized that. Alexis and I got put into therapy by my mom because we were both showing signs of depression and it actually helped. I would’ve never admitted that at that age because I was very embarrassed about it. I just kept thinking, “What kind of 12 year old goes to therapy?” Finally, by 2016 I was out of it. I learned many things. Especially how to deal with grief.

I still am sad sometimes about my dad but that’s to be expected. You can’t just forget what happened but you can learn how to live with it. It’s been five years since my dad died and yes it was hard. But I know he wouldn’t want me to mope he would want me to live my life to the fullest and I know that I’ve made him proud by doing that. There have been instances where it seems like he’ll just walk through the door and realizing that he will never is hard but I know that he is in a better place just like everyone used to tell me. I learned a lot of important things from this experience and I wouldn’t wish it upon anybody but that’s just life. Death happens and people need to learn that it’s okay. I was in a bad place but I realized that I have happy memories to remember my dad and keep him alive in my heart. To everyone that’s lost someone, it will get better.