My father was diagnosed with cancer in 1998. I will never forget when he told me. He said honey, "I'm sick." I wasn't scared because he wasn't scared. The questions that I asked, he didn't have answers to. He was a physician and he was not used to being the patient. He was the one who gave the answers or suggestions to his patients. Now, he was the patient. He did everything that he possibly could do to keep his cancer at bay travelling to renowned medical universities, talking to his colleagues, research…EVERY LITTLE THING!

In 2013, my father's health seemed to deteriorate at a rapid pace. I was filling in the gaps of what my mom could do and what they both needed help with. I would call, meet them at doctor’s appointments and take the occasional meal over to them. What I was doing was the bare minimum and I knew it. They needed help and I needed to help. I didn’t know where to begin and then my husband said, “Do whatever it takes to help your parents.” It was would become a lifechanging experience for me, the man whose blessing I needed the most, was giving me the support that I needed to dive in – all in.

I began keeping a calendar just for his medical appointments. I changed his contact information to mine. I was slowly becoming his voice. I would ultimately become his advocate. There were many times in the hospital when he was sick and during the intake process, he could not recall all of the medication he was taking. That’s where I came in. Armed with my “Dad list”, I became his mouthpiece; making sure that all medical personnel knew what medication he was taking, what his health problems were and, most importantly, that he received the care that he needed.

The body is just so strong and his was tired. We were now going to many doctors’ offices for reasons other than cancer. Cancer is just never cancer. The treatment is good for this, the side effects are not for that. At times, I felt like an outsider looking in. I respected my father’s determination and resilience, yet I did not know what I would do if it was me. Another big life lesson: I learned to keep my mouth shut and by doing so, I learned to listen. I was not the one diagnosed with cancer, how could I possibly tell him what OR what no to do.

Ultimately, we began to have conversations about the what ifs and when… We talked openly and honestly about his wishes; followed by the care that my mom would receive after his passing. We talked about finances, the love that he had for his daughters, their husbands, their children and humankind. He passed way in the spring of 2015. Today, all I want is one more conversation with him. All I want is to ask him his advice on this and that and I do, in the form of prayer.

I used to feel that my father’s death gave me life. It didn’t. I was given life the day I was born. My father’s death and the fact that I chose to be a part of his life, renewed my purpose for living. My entire thought process has changed. My heart is open. My hands are helping ones.

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My resolve is to write about experiences and awareness that I had throughout my life. Many things have been revealed to me and I am excited to share them with you. It is my belief that we are all just walking each other home and I am willing to hold your hand through the process.

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On the first page of my website, is my contact information. I would be honored to hear about your experience, strength and hope with a situation or situations that you thought you would never be able to get through, but did!

Purely,

Kim

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