Logan and I are not ones to use profanity or those kind of things, but in April, I learned a new bad word- a word that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, hurts your heart, and leaves feeling unsure. Earlier this year, we moved in with my parents after following a prompting and feeling like we were supposed to be there- that story is here. At that time we did not have a reason or any idea on why we moved, but now we feel like we know. Two weeks to the day after we checked out of our apartment, my dad was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. Cancer, that’s a bad word. One of the reasons that word sucks so much is because it leaves you feeling helpless. To me that’s a bad word. Up until this point, I have understood that cancer is bad and scary, but I personally haven’t had anyone really close to me affected by it until this point. This rocked my world. I was not prepared for this news and it changed my life in multiple ways.

Over the course of the summer, he went through low dose chemo and radiation to help shrink the tumor to be able to remove it. Today is the day that the tumor is going to be removed and as I sit here, across the country in Maryland, I feel helpless again, knowing that I’m so far away. Too far away to be able to sit in the hospital room when he comes too, too far away to be able to be there when he comes home from the hospital, and too far away to wrap my arms around him in a big hug. So today, here’s a letter to my dad on a day that I wish so badly I could be close and home with him.

Dad,

You made it to this point. You and we (our family) have already jumped over a few hurdles. The biggest one of those was getting you to the dang doctor, but we made that one and although it didn’t go as planned, we made it over it. Then we went through the chemo and radiation and I cannot tell you how difficult it was for me, mom, and all of my siblings to feel so helpless. We weren’t sure what to say that would help or what part of the day you would be feeling well. That hurdle was hard for me. I watched my dad, my Mr. Invincible, struggle and feel more pain than I’ve ever seen before, but push through and do a lot of hard physically hard things that are demanding enough without the cancer treatments. I cried, a lot, but you know I tend to be the emotional child in the family. I always tried to keep my emotions in check around you, but would find myself crying downstairs or anytime I was driving and Tim McGraw’s “Humble and Kind” came one. I will always remember that on those days when you didn’t want to go to radiation, you went anyways. Not only did you go, but you always made the people working there smile and always seemed to reach out to anyone else who was at the radiation place. Each time you came home, it seemed like you were talking about someone else you made friends with there. I love that about you- you know how to make everyone happy. Once those treatments ended and you began to feel better again, my heart soared. Seeing you play with the grandkids again and to watch you walk without that limp of pain has been incredible. Life has felt normal again.

Today I know that sense of “normal” is going to go away and we are about to enter a whole new set of hurdles, but I will not lose sight of the courage and strength you have shown. While I know you have shown that, I will try to adopt and create those same things in myself to help be a light and source of those things for you when you need them, because I know the road is not devoid of obstacles ahead. So today, let’s jump over this hurdle and keep fighting. Be strong today and know that it is OK to be scared, but I know you are the bravest man I know.

I love you and am sending all my prayers and love to you today and always. Be strong, be brave, and fight.

Love,

Your little girl

P.S. Mom- I’m praying for you too!!