I can remember the exact moment that I learned my Father had cancer. I was driving thru the city traffic, and I came to a stoplight when my cell phone rang. Typically, I never answered my cell phone while driving, but I knew that my father had a Dr. appointment at Kaiser that afternoon and I was curious what was learned. My stomach had been tied in knots most of the day and I simply had a feeling that something was not right.
Dad, or “Diddy”, a nickname spawned from my thick childhood Mississippi accent, had been sick for several weeks with what we all believed was pneumonia. His doctor had prescribed medication for pneumonia, and he had flown to his hometown in Mississippi for a high school reunion. When he returned he was still feeling poorly and the Doctor began investigating the fact that he might in fact have pleurisy. While he continued to work he also seemed to be feeling a little worse each day. He still had a cough and his energy seemed to be drained much easier after his long shifts driving a semi-truck and working on the dock.
It was for this reason that I answered my phone when I saw that it was him calling me. I was hoping for good news that day. I thought that my family deserved a little bit of calmness after the last year but I suppose I should have known that life doesn’t work that way. Our family had been going through a lot of hard times, as had my parents, and things were finally smoothing out and returning to normal. I was newly engaged, my brother was doing very well for himself, and my parents were happy together. Life seemed to be starting to go the way that we had all pictured it before things got hard.
Looking back on this time period, I realize there are many things that each of us did that weren’t typical of our normal behavior. I know that God had a reason for motivating us to change our learned behavior in each instance. A perfect example of this was my Father going home to Mississippi for the reunion. He had worked at the same company for over 17 years and typically was a “company man” and did what he was told to do even if he wasn‘t pleased with the decision.
When he put in for the time off after learning about the high school reunion, his request was denied. He was upset by this and after thinking about it for a few days he came home with news for us. He told us that he had gone to speak with his boss that morning, and told him that he felt he should go ahead and do a write up to put into his employment file. When the manager asked why he should take that course of action Dad told him, “Because you told me I can’t go to Mississippi for my high school reunion in August. I’m going to go anyway, so I think we should just go ahead and do the write up now and get it out of the way. I’m not missing this high school reunion because you never know, I might be dead before the next one comes.” As it came to pass, he was correct, and he was diagnosed with cancer several weeks after returning home.
“Sissy, where are you?” my Mom asked me. For some reason, my family often called me “Sissy” and my brother “Bubba”, though I was the only one who called my father “Diddy.”
“Brian and I are in town. Why, how did Dad’s appointment go?” I inquired.
“Are you driving?” she asked me.
“Yes, I am driving. How did Dad’s appointment go?” I asked again.
“I don’t want to talk with you about it while your behind the wheel. Why don’t you and Brian head over to our house and we can all talk together,” she told me and I knew that something had to be very wrong.
“No Mom, now I’m worried. I’m fine driving. Put Dad on the phone please, I want to talk to him.”
It took a moment for her to put my Father on the phone but I could tell in his voice that it wasn’t good news.
“Dad, what did the Doctor say? Mom doesn’t want to tell me, but I’d rather know now. “
“It doesn’t look good, Sissy. It doesn’t look good.” Even today when I think of that moment I can hear my Father’s voice and how it broke as he told me that. A usually strong and happy voice full of laughter, and quick with a joke or tease, was strained and came out a harsh whisper. I think it was the only time in my life that I could actually hear fear in his voice. I’d heard love, concern, disappointment, and anger, but I don’t believe I’d ever heard anything like what came out that day. Just the memory of that moment, over three years later, still brings tears to my eyes.
He went on to tell me that the Doctor’s had just confirmed that he had lung cancer. As if that news wasn’t bad enough, they had also let him know that it was already at stage four. It wasn’t until later that evening, after I had time to research on the Internet, that I understood that stage four was the final stage of cancer. While treatment would be attempted, the chances of recovery from that stage were very small. I am thankful that I didn’t know that at the time, because just hearing the word cancer was scary enough.
I had no idea then what my father and our family would go through for the next ten months. A lot of the unknown at that moment was not knowing if Dad would survive, what kind of treatment he would get, and how sick chemotherapy might make him. Thoughts were racing through my head, one after another as I raced home: him not being there to walk me down the aisle, him never meeting my children or my brother’s children in the future, and him never getting to realize his dream of moving back to Stonewall, Mississippi and build a home with my mother.
I was also thinking of losing my father, who was one of my best friends, and with whom I’d somehow created a new relationship within the last year. I was older, 26 at that time, and with my maturity our parent/child relationship had ventured into new territory – we became friends. I also believe God gave me that wonderful gift because now I feel that I really got to know my “Diddy” before he passed. He shared stories with me about childhood, about things he did in his youth, and other stories I couldn’t ever imagine him sharing with me years before. He had always been the parent – doctoring my cuts and bruises in childhood, talking me through broken hearts in my teens, watching me make mistakes and learn from them as I grew older. I had always been closer with my mother but that was no longer the case. Now, they were both my best friends.
What I didn’t know was that before my Father left this life, he would teach me a much more valuable lesson than ever before. I had been raised as a Southern Baptist and had a faith and a belief in God. Before passing, my father would show me just what it meant to put all of your trust and faith in God, to trust the plan that he had laid out for you even if you didn’t understand it, and to accept what he had to give. I’m certain that having a terminal illness and facing your own mortality is a true test of one’s faith in God. Instead of letting his faith in God waiver, my father took this opportunity to place all of his trust into the Lord’s hands, and guided his family to do the same.
This is the story of his illness, his faith, and of our family. I understand how hard this time can be and how hard it can be to simply let go and trust that what is going to happen is laid out in God’s plan for us. My hope is that the story will help others who may be going through a similar situation, or who have family and friends who are.
Ransom Lee 