Losing the Love of My Father to Cancer

Losing the love of my father to cancer is going to hurt.

Hello,

I am afraid of losing the love of my father.

Losing at love is painful, and never having love is even more painful. But we have no choice but to make the best of a bad situation.

mom dad graham orland

Being single all my life, never getting married, sucks. The worst thing about it is watching my friends get divorced. Then they go get remarried, and then divorced again, and I must listen to them rant about why they hate their ex-husband or ex-wife. How am I supposed to stay positive about women when all the men who are now single again rant about the problems of marriage?

But we can be positive. There are good people on the planet.

There are quiet people who have good marriages and who have good parents. And truth be told, we do not want to know that; it makes us angry.

Well, unless we also had a good marriage or good parents. Then we like to hear about them. But if by the luck of the draw, our marriages ended up in divorce, or our father always abused us, then hearing about good parents is no fun. So few have them, it feels like bragging, just mean words, rubbing it into the hearts of the people who lost with their parents, wives or husbands.

Today, my father is 81 years old. My mother and father have been married for over 60 years. When my father dies of cancer, my mother will lose the love of her life, which is not going to be easy. Can you imagine sleeping in the same bed with a man for 60 years, and suddenly, it is empty?

I am slowly losing the love of my father to cancer, and now it is my turn to give him unconditional love, as much as possible, whenever possible, to make him know that he is my father, and I am proud of him.

We all live our lives close to the edge daily. One day is great, the next is OK, and others are just miserable. We have no choice but to get up, keep on keeping on, and live the best lives we can.

I have lost everything: my sanity, jobs, and even businesses. People say, I had a bad day, and I cannot relate,

I had bad decades! 1975-1985 and 1985-1995.

Today, my life is great, and only because I refuse to talk with unhappy people. If a person is not accomplishing something, if he or she does not have a smile on his or her face, I walk away.

But my father dying was never in the plan, and losing the love of my father (and, someday, my mother) is going to be tough.

One of the reasons I have been able to travel for 15 years, anywhere and everywhere on the planet, is because I always knew that my parents “have my back.”

I know that Mom and Dad would sink ships, travel to the end of the planet to save me. But I cannot save my dad.

In many ways, I suspect the reason for my heartfelt desire to go to Kara, Togo, and save malaria babies is because I cannot save my dad.

I am 100 percent sure that I can put my person, money, medicine and brains between a malaria baby and the Grim Reaper, so this baby does not lose a future, so he or she, this small baby, can grow up to be the same as my father and mother. Babies dying of malaria are a tragedy.

I always will remember when I flew home from Kara, Togo, last time. I told the lady across the street, where I bought peanuts and crackers and, occasionally, cookies:

“My father is 80, and he is dying from prostate cancer.”

She said, “We can dance in the streets for him.”

I am going to hold her to that. The celebration of life is best; the loss of a father is something that is supposed to happen to someone else.

He is not dead; he is alive, happy and spending hours per day trying to fight the good fight.

My mother is a champion. One time I came downstairs when I was home … It was 2 a.m., and there she was at the kitchen table, laying out medicines and making a to-do list. She is a workaholic for my father’s life, trying to keep him in bed.

Thanks for listening; you are special.

Your friend,
Andy Lee Graham

How do I believe my father got cancer? Read how in the Members Only area.

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