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Dad, I love you
By CECILIA TUCKER
© St. Petersburg Times,
published September 3, 2001
First of 2 parts
Several months ago my dad was diagnosed with cancer. I will never be the same again. My outlook on life and death has been altered forever. My family has had a year that none of us will ever forget. I now know that when one person in the family gets a potentially terminal illness, the entire family gets sick, too.
I see that healing has been necessary for all our family members during my dad's illness and not just for my dad. Before this happened, I never thought that most things in life were very serious. When I thought my dad might really die, I realized none of us live forever and we never know when our time might be up. We are not in control of our dying, only our living, so I am taking a closer look at how I live and how my actions affect others.
When I heard the news about my dad's cancer, I asked myself, "Is this real? Could this be happening to my dad? Naaaaah, can't be! Are they sure they got the right diagnosis for the right person? Could there be a mistake here?" But it was true! My dad had cancer, and that was a fact. There was no way the doctors had made a mistake.
My parents came home from the doctor's office, and we talked about what was to happen next. Our house felt like a depressing, dark castle in the middle of nowhere. I felt scared and somewhat isolated. Even though we talked about it, I kept wishing I would wake up the next morning and discover that this had all been a very bad dream. But it didn't happen that way, because this was no dream. It was the truth!
I watched my mom closely. She appeared to be frightened and worried. I wished I knew all the thoughts in her head, but I could only guess. I think she must have been pondering thoughts about death, survival and possible healing. I know she had concerns about money and how to pay the bills. She looked at me at times with such sad stares that it made me know she was feeling my pain and wondering how I was going to handle all this.
If my dad died, would I be okay? If he lived, how would all of this change my life and our lifestyle? Then I knew there were times she was just thinking about my dad and the fears he must be facing. When I looked at her, I almost felt as much sadness for her as I did for my dad.
Then the nights would come, again and again. I had restless nights. Thoughts would slither into my mind, accompanied by nightmares and horrifying dreams that would recur with no good endings. I seemed never to be able to change the outcome. My dreams kept reminding me that if my dad died he would be gone forever. In my dreams I never said, "I LOVE YOU" soon enough. He was gone before I told him the most important thing I had ever needed to say to him: Dad, I love you!
I was told my dad had to have surgery before he could have chemotherapy. I didn't have a clue what all of this meant, but I had a sick feeling deep inside of me that kept telling me that the times ahead would not be good ones. Surgery day arrived, and off he went to the hospital. My dream plagued me . . . did I tell him I loved him? Did he hear me or was he too scared to be able to hear my words? Will he come back home? Will I have another chance to tell him how important he is to me? Dad, I love you!
Next: Surgery scares me.
-- Author's note: A special thanks goes to Elliot Graham, an eighth-grader at John Hopkins Middle School in St. Petersburg, for his contribution to this article.
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IT! (Private thoughts of the Indomitable Teen) is written by Cecilia Tucker, a licensed marriage and family therapist at the Counseling Center for New Direction in Seminole. Tucker, who has been in counseling practice since 1979, writes this column under the guidance of a panel of teenage advisers, who approve the topics and offer their insights (in exchange for pizza). You may write her c/o: IT!, X-Press, the Times, P.O. Box 1121, St. Petersburg, FL 33731, or e-mail Floridian@sptimes.com.
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