Dad,
I've been trying to find the words and write this post since well before Father's Day, but as you and I both know, cancer and life happened---I got sick and ended up in the ER again, but I'm back at it and here we are. I promise to be more timely next year when this is all a bad dream.
I've been going to my cancer support group and the facilitator always asks for an inspiring word of wisdom to start off the week. As the eternal pessimist, I never have the words to say, but the words of others often stick with me. I jotted down "find the blessings in cancer" after my first meeting.
Dad, our renewed relationship is one of those blessings.
My mom have always been two peas in a pod...some times wrestling around in the pod, but stuck in there all the same. Somewhat by circumstance, you've been the green bean-- vaguely like us, but always on the fringe. Mom was the disciplinarian, my best friend, my mortal enemy, my shoulder to cry on. I used to describe you as more of a favorite uncle to my friends and now that I look back, that was very unfair and I'm sorry.
You've always been my father, even when I didn't think you were the father I wanted or the father I deserved. I've always been very sensitive and your busy work schedule, far away home and bachelor lifestyle were never what I thought my father should be. I wanted you to be there all the time emotionally and physically,, but you couldn't be, and I didn't understand why, at the time, because I wasn't an adult. I was a selfish child without adult responsibilities. Now I see that life balance isn't a piece of cake.
When you married and had more children, I felt betrayed and replaced. If you didn't have the time for me, why add more responsibility? It was hurtful to see your happy family unit on vacations I wasn't invited on and Christmas cards without my photo included. Now I see that you were so busy, so overwhelmed with your new responsibilities that these were not insults, but oversights, in the further busy and complex adult life you had.
I wanted a dad to have the type of relationship with me that my mom and I had long shared. I couldn't see that your quick calls or visits, generous gifts, college tuition and gentle hugs were the relationship that you could offer. Now I can see you and my mom are not the same people and your love languages are not identical. It was ridiculous for me to expect such things.
But, when I was diagnosed at 3am in the ER with cancer, you dropped everything to get on plane and come to Phoenix. And you came back...so many times, it's even surprised me. You call and text everyday to check in. We've had a long time joke in our family that you're the hardest one to get ahold of. I never worry about that any more.
For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm your top priority...which is what I thought I always wanted.
And now that I see clearly all of the things you did and all of the ways you were there for me while I was growing up, I feel guilty to be your top priority. I'm nearly 30--I should be handling life on my own fully, not taking you away from your wife on her birthday or your kid's lacrosse games because you're visiting me.
And with my diagnosis, I've seen a softer, more sensitive side of you. The emotion, the anger, the gentle words that you often hid from others are suddenly on the surface. I think it is brave above all else.
You should show this side more often-- you don't always have to be the toughest one. I'm sorry to have brought it out with this nightmare cancer situation but I am not sorry to have been witness to it. A sensitive Dr. Doug is quite becoming.
And so, if there is one blessing I take from having cancer, it is that my relationship with you is stronger than it's ever been. I treasure the time we spend hanging out together, the generousity you show my friends, your late night texts and of course, our pedicure dates. Without cancer, I'm just not sure we could've even truly gotten to this point, and for that, I feel truly blessed.
Happy Belated Father's Day.
Love, Nikki
I've been trying to find the words and write this post since well before Father's Day, but as you and I both know, cancer and life happened---I got sick and ended up in the ER again, but I'm back at it and here we are. I promise to be more timely next year when this is all a bad dream.
I've been going to my cancer support group and the facilitator always asks for an inspiring word of wisdom to start off the week. As the eternal pessimist, I never have the words to say, but the words of others often stick with me. I jotted down "find the blessings in cancer" after my first meeting.
Dad, our renewed relationship is one of those blessings.
My mom have always been two peas in a pod...some times wrestling around in the pod, but stuck in there all the same. Somewhat by circumstance, you've been the green bean-- vaguely like us, but always on the fringe. Mom was the disciplinarian, my best friend, my mortal enemy, my shoulder to cry on. I used to describe you as more of a favorite uncle to my friends and now that I look back, that was very unfair and I'm sorry.
You've always been my father, even when I didn't think you were the father I wanted or the father I deserved. I've always been very sensitive and your busy work schedule, far away home and bachelor lifestyle were never what I thought my father should be. I wanted you to be there all the time emotionally and physically,, but you couldn't be, and I didn't understand why, at the time, because I wasn't an adult. I was a selfish child without adult responsibilities. Now I see that life balance isn't a piece of cake.
When you married and had more children, I felt betrayed and replaced. If you didn't have the time for me, why add more responsibility? It was hurtful to see your happy family unit on vacations I wasn't invited on and Christmas cards without my photo included. Now I see that you were so busy, so overwhelmed with your new responsibilities that these were not insults, but oversights, in the further busy and complex adult life you had.
I wanted a dad to have the type of relationship with me that my mom and I had long shared. I couldn't see that your quick calls or visits, generous gifts, college tuition and gentle hugs were the relationship that you could offer. Now I can see you and my mom are not the same people and your love languages are not identical. It was ridiculous for me to expect such things.
But, when I was diagnosed at 3am in the ER with cancer, you dropped everything to get on plane and come to Phoenix. And you came back...so many times, it's even surprised me. You call and text everyday to check in. We've had a long time joke in our family that you're the hardest one to get ahold of. I never worry about that any more.
For the first time in my life, I feel like I'm your top priority...which is what I thought I always wanted.
And now that I see clearly all of the things you did and all of the ways you were there for me while I was growing up, I feel guilty to be your top priority. I'm nearly 30--I should be handling life on my own fully, not taking you away from your wife on her birthday or your kid's lacrosse games because you're visiting me.
And with my diagnosis, I've seen a softer, more sensitive side of you. The emotion, the anger, the gentle words that you often hid from others are suddenly on the surface. I think it is brave above all else.
You should show this side more often-- you don't always have to be the toughest one. I'm sorry to have brought it out with this nightmare cancer situation but I am not sorry to have been witness to it. A sensitive Dr. Doug is quite becoming.
And so, if there is one blessing I take from having cancer, it is that my relationship with you is stronger than it's ever been. I treasure the time we spend hanging out together, the generousity you show my friends, your late night texts and of course, our pedicure dates. Without cancer, I'm just not sure we could've even truly gotten to this point, and for that, I feel truly blessed.
Happy Belated Father's Day.
Love, Nikki
Loving recognition of an amazing man who provides so much in his own way. Your reflection, humor and appreciation inspires. Please give Dr. Doug a big hug from me, one of y0ur biggest fans and thank him for being a hero.
ReplyDeleteWonderful message - I'm sure your Dad will appreciate it! Take care my friend!
ReplyDeleteThank you for this beautiful and courageous expression of love.
ReplyDelete