Easter, Part Two (the sad part)

Easter was not all celebration, bunnies, and creme-filled eggs this year.

My dad has Cancer. The news came to us at the start of 2008 after he collapsed at Christmas Eve church services and had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance. It was a blow to my own heart. Never did I think my father would ever be diagnosed with cancer.

If a Cancer diagnoses wasn’t hard enough to deal with, the accompanying news that it was stage 4 was nearly too overwhelming for me to handle. My dad has always been healthy, vivacious, and tenacious. He’s too stubborn to be sick and I always expected that he’d remain fairly healthy until it was his time to leave us. I can’t accept the chances that that time may be drawing near. I’m not ready to lose my dad yet. I personally don’t know if anyone can ever say that they are ready to lose a parent or another loved one, but at some point in time I would assume that people feel as if they are able to let go. I don’t want to give up hope on my father when I know that he is still fighting. Is it selfish of me to ask him to fight so hard when everything seems to be going wrong for him?

Early Easter morning my Dad started having seizures. After the second seizure, the second call to 911, and the second ambulance visit he was taken to the hospital. Again, positive expectations got the best of us and we were once again smacked across the face with gut-wrenching news: brain lesions. We were hoping for the alternative– low magnesium levels as a side-effect of his chemotherapy. I had to choke back tears and stay strong for him. I’m so afraid that if he thinks we’ve given up hope that he will give up hope. In that aspect I wonder if he’s still stronger that we are. He seems to have an endless supply of hope.

I hoped that with the celebration of the Easter holiday that my family would be able to celebrate the miracle of new life and the eventual transformation of Dad back into the person that we are so familiar with– the dad that stars in reminiscent memories of childhood and times not so long ago.

Today Dad sits in the hospital and hopes for positive news. I am so thankful that he has been participating in a clinical trial for a drug that vastly improves his chances for survival. I am thankful that he is strong and stubborn and that he loves his family above all else. My dad would do anything for family. I pray to God for continual strength and hope not only for my dad, but for myself and the rest of my family as well.

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