Dear Daddy



I've always been a daddy's girl

 To my dearest Daddy,

I love you. 

I know I told you that many times when you were alive, but I wish I could have told you just one more time how much you meant to me.  You were my inspiration on bad days, my encouragement to keep going when I didn't think I could take one more step, and as the song that we danced to at my wedding said, "You are the wind beneath my wings."  You really were.  I'm going to miss you so much, but I know you would want me to keep going.

Even now, I can almost hear you laughing and making a joke about something.  You never let anyone take themselves or anything else too seriously.  Even when you were diagnosed with cancer seven and a half years ago, you never let it get you down.  For seven years we heard, "You better give me the good Christmas presents this year because I don't know that I'll be here next year!" with a twinkle in your eye.  The doctor gave you 3 years...guess you showed them!

Fishing at the beach -
daddy's favorite thing to do

Your upbeat spirit and unswerving faith in God has inspired not only me but many others throughout the county and beyond.  The lack of seating at your funeral was definitely proof of that.  You were a much respected man; you still are respected by many.  My prayer is that I can live up to the legacy you have left me.

I will never forget your words to me when you saw me crying over your cancer diagnosis. "Why are you crying?  I haven't wasted a tear and neither should you.  If God wants me here, He's going to leave me here.  If He wants me Home, He'll take me Home.  It's out of our hands so why waist time worrying about it?"  I hope that I can be as brave and as strong of faith as that when my time draws near.



Relay for Life 2009 (I was pregnant)

 The way you left was hard on us, but I know that it was easier for you that way.  The cancer would have taken it's toll eventually and made you bedridden and miserable.  This way, you were able to spend every last minute doing the things you love like fishing, golfing, working for the American Cancer Society and getting ready for another Relay for Life, and getting a final visit with your granddaughter the weekend before your death.  I wish we had had more time, but I'm thankful for what time we had. 



Dancing to "Wind Beneath
 My Wings" at my wedding
2004



When I heard the message on my phone that mom left saying that you had to go back into the hospital so soon after getting out from the bout you had with pneumonia, I knew something wasn't right this time.  I never worried (too too much) about the times you had to go to the doctor or even go to the hospital because you had been such a fighter and had proven doctor after doctor wrong with how long you could fight.  However, this one gave me a chill and a nervous shake.  I knew it wasn't good...but I didn't know why.  Unfortunately, even if I had dropped everything right then and there, left school and driven straight to the hospital, I wouldn't have had time to say goodbye.  It happened so fast, the way you would have wanted, quick, painless, nobody fussing and crying over you.  You never wanted to bother, inconvenience, or worry anyone else.  You were always looking out for others.  A trait I hope I can emulate.

Daddy, you will be missed, but you will never be forgotten.  I know that right now you are up there playing basketball with your old coach from HS (who passed away only a week after you), having a good ol' time with Grandma and Grandpa, and talking to Jesus about finding a cure for cancer.  Do me a favor and look in on my student who passed away earlier this year...you know the one.  Make sure he's still smiling and is in good hands!

I love you Daddy, and I will see you again.

Love,

Sissy

Daddy's Little Girl

From holding me in a small white dress, to holding me in a long white dress, my dad has always been there for me.

When I was little he taught me how to shoot a BB gun, ride a bike, ride a horse, and anything else I wanted to learn. He never said, "Little girls don't do that" instead, he would usually laugh, say something along the lines of "Don't tell your mother" and off we would go.

We went to the beach several times every summer. While Mom was sitting on the shore or looking for shells, Daddy was in the water with my brother and I playing, splashing, and pretending he loved us climbing on his back to jump off.

When I was in high school, he worked for the phone company and drove from house to house repairing the phone lines. I was a swimmer. At that point in my life, that was about the only way I described myself as everything I did revolved around swimming (I ran track to stay in shape for summer swim team, I did summer swim team to get ready for the high school team...). Swimming was my life. Daddy knew this, but he was rarely able to take off on Tuesdays and Thursday for my swim meets. However, if it was a home meet, my dad would drive around the pool as often as he could to ask me how I was doing. If I was about to swim, he'd pull over and park so he could stand by the fence to watch, even if it made him a little late to his next appointment. Those few minutes of him being there meant more to me than the parents who showed up to every meet, every time, because they had the time to do so. It was something he didn't have to do, he did it just for me, just to support me, just to say, "that's my daughter out there!"

In 2003, we found out that Daddy has cancer. Mantle Cell Lymphoma. Rare. Aggressive. Hard to treat. Scared the crap out of me. Suddenly the man I thought was as solid as a rock wasn't, or so I thought at first. I vowed to be strong for him, as strong as he had always been for me... but I soon realized, that he was still a rock, he was still strong, and he was still holding me together. Even when the doctor told him he was considered terminal and probably had only 3 years to live, he never gave up. He never gave up in himself, in his doctors, or in God.

Many things will forever stick in my mind about my dad but probably the most important one was what he said to me while he was laying in a hospital bed as I started to cry.

"What are you crying for? There is nothing to cry over. I haven't shed a tear or lost a moments sleep and neither should you. God is taking care of this. It's in His hands now. If He needs me here, He'll leave me here. When He wants me home, He'll take me home. It's out of our control so why worry?"

He was right, there was nothing to worry about. My dad is still strong, still fighting, and still going long after the doctors said he should have passed. He has had chemotherapy, radiation, stem cell transplants, more clinical trials than I can count ("Even if it doesn't help me, if it helps them find a cure for someone else, my job is done."), and finally last year, a bone marrow transplant from an anonymous donor - who we found out this year lives in GA.

I remember praying that God allowed my dad to see me get married and to hold his grandchildren. God is great, and he has answered my prayers with a resounding YES. My dad not only saw me get married, but mustered up the strength to walk me down the aisle and dance with me at the reception. In October, he will see my child born, his newest grandchild (my brother already has 2 sons so I can't say "first grandchild").

God is great, but my daddy comes in a pretty close second! Happy Father's Day Daddy, I love you!

Truly Thankful

I got the following story in an e-mail today:

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes I'll do it if it will save her." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheek. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away". Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.

It is a very sweet and touching story and all too relative to me today. Last year, on the day before Thanksgiving, I found out that someone, like the little brother in this story, was willing to help my father. Perhaps this mystery person knew there was little risk to himself, but it was still an act that he/she did not have to do for my father...for my family.

You see, my dad needed a bone marrow transplant to save his life. Everything else had been tried: Chemotherapy, radiation, a stem cell transplant, and every experimental drug and treatment that we could find. His brothers, the best chance for a match, were not a match for him and things were starting to look grim. The Lymphoma that has been attacking his blood and lymph nodes was starting to win the long fought war.

The National Bone Marrow Registry had been searched, and re-searched several times with nothing coming up as a match.

My husband was gone. He was 300 miles away at a Navy base waiting to be sent to South America for a 6 month deployment. It would be his 2nd holiday season in a row that he wasn't even going to be in the country. I was driving to a town half way between our house and his parents to meet them for a Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant not far off the interstate before they left for a family camping trip with the rest of their extended family when I got the call from my mom.

I started crying while I was driving down a busy interstate. Not so safe. I had to pull over when I realized that my tears were impairing my sight. They were the happiest of happy tears. Someone had matched with my father on the registry and had agreed to do the transplant (Even if you agree to be on the registry, you can still change your mind if they call you). I called my husband's cell phone praying that they hadn't left early forcing him to turn his phone off. They hadn't.

I scared Hubby to death I think. I was crying so hard that he couldn't make out what I was saying, yet he knew that I should be driving to see his parents and that the interstate I was driving on is notorious for bad accidents. After a little while I was able to calm down enough to tell him the news. He was just as relieved as I was, even if he didn't cry!

It was, to date, the best Thanksgiving my family has ever been. We've always been thankful for everything we've had, but this took the proverbial cake. We were thankful for the very life that my father was being given, and thankful to the still anonymous person who made it possible by offering to give his or her bone marrow to my father to save his life.

A year after the transplant, Daddy is doing great! He has had some ups and downs but is hanging on and doing fantastically well according to his doctors. He is still considered "terminal" as so far there is no cure for his particular type of Lymphoma, yet the outlook is nowhere near as grim as it was a little over a year ago.

To the person who made this possible, you may not know me, but I have prayed for you and thanked God for you every single day for the past year. You may never know how much my family and I truly appreciate how much you have given us by your wonderful act of selflessness. I only hope that one day, you can be repaid in some small way.

I strongly encourage anyone who reads this to join the National Bone Marrow Registry. You never know whose life you may be saving or touching.

Dreams

A few days ago I had a dream, possibly a nightmare. I don't really remember it all that well except that right before I woke up, I was freaking out and crying/screaming while a woman I work with was holding me and trying to comfort me.

In real life, I know this woman, but I wouldn't say that we are necessarily close friends. I work with her and for the most part like her, but found it strange that in my dream I would seek her out for comfort. The next morning at work I found her and told her about it. She laughed, first saying that it is my subconscious saying that I know I can always come to her if I need anything (she knows I am about to go through another rough time in my life). But then she tells me that she recently got a dream book. In he dream book it says that bad dreams mean something good is about to happen.

I've never really believed in deep meaning behind dreams, I have always felt that it is just your conscious mind shutting down and all of the thoughts and dreams of the day mingling together and running wild.

I didn't think much about it anymore until later that evening when I was on my way to see my in-laws for dinner. They will be gone for Thanksgiving so we thought we would meet 1/2 way and have dinner together at a restaurant, little did I know that it was going to be a TRUE Thanksgiving dinner. As I was driving down the interstate I get a phone call telling me that they have finally found a bone marrow donor for my Dad! Daddy has Mantle Cell Lymphoma, a terminal blood cancer and a bone marrow transplant was our last plan of action but until now we couldn't find anyone who was a match. While this won't kill the cancer or cure my dad, it can possibly give him many more happy years with us.

I started crying, happy tears of course, and had to pull over since it was a very busy and dangerous interstate I was driving on. I called my husband, who is out of state with the Navy, who at first thought I'd been in an accident because I was crying so much I could hardly get the words out. He of course was thrilled as well.

I finally made it back on the road and to the restaurant to meet my husband's parents where I started crying again! I think I cried all night long. I didn't even have this amount of happy tears on my wedding day. I'm still tearing and shaking up as I'm typing, I'm just so happy!