Tears streamed down my cheeks as I looked up from the parking lot to my dad’s hospital window. He smiled and waved goodbye, but I saw the pain in his face. As my mom and I drove home, fear gripped me as I thought about how upside down my world had become. Why did this happen? What was going to happen tomorrow? Would things ever be the same again?
Daddy’s Girl
I had a great childhood: fun toys, frilly dresses, laughter and the best parents. From the moment I was born, I was a daddy’s girl. I loved to do things with Dad such as mow the lawn, go to the store or watch movies. My dad would play dolls with me, watch the same Disney movie over and over, and sneak ice cream to me when Mom wasn’t looking. As I grew up, our relationship changed, but we were still close. We would go out on “dates” and watch sports together. I knew I could always go to him for help with a problem, for a laugh or for advice. He was my hero.
In February of my eighth-grade year, Mom took Dad to the emergency room after he’d been complaining of severe pain for a couple days. The doctors ran some tests, and a few days later we got the results: My dad had colon cancer. That news threw my world into complete chaos.
Missing Dad
At the age of 12, I had no idea what cancer really was. All I knew was that it was bad, and I was scared. My dad was brought in for surgery less than 24 hours after we got the test results. The surgery went well, and my dad had to stay in the hospital for a week to recover. We visited him every day, bringing him cards, flowers and messages from loved ones. While I loved going to see him, when it was time to leave, a flood of fear and emotions would come over me. I didn’t like leaving him alone; he was supposed to be with us!
Often I’d go home and cry myself to sleep, missing my dad and wishing things weren’t so confusing. The possibility of losing my dad forever was consistently on my mind. I was unsure and helpless to stop these fears. I couldn’t imagine life without my dad.
My mom was so strong during this time. I remember seeing her cry only once, and even through the tears, she told me that God was faithful, and she knew that He’d bring my dad and our family through this. It was that attitude of faith that helped me through my times of doubt that came in the year that followed.
After my dad got out of the hospital, he began a series of 18 chemotherapy treatments to get rid of any cancer cells in his body. I was so relieved to hear that, because it meant that he’d be getting back to normal. I was wrong. Chemotherapy was beneficial in his process to recovery, but the side effects made him sick at the same time.
Each time my dad would go for one of his treatments, he’d come home and sleep the rest of the day. He was weak and tired all the time. I was so frustrated, because I wanted my dad back. I wanted him to get better. I just wanted things to be back to normal. It was hard to watch him like that, because it was the exact opposite of the lively, energetic dad I knew. In the midst of our daily struggles, I remember hearing God whisper, “I’m here” each time a new doubt would arise. Slowly, I got my dad back. He regained his energy, his smile returned, and life began to feel normal again.
He Never Left
That was nine years ago. Looking back, I’m in awe of the way God sustained my family through the entire ordeal. It was one of the hardest times of my life, but I wouldn’t change anything. Through our struggles, God proved so faithful. He was always with me. He never left—not even for a moment. I know that I’m blessed, because my dad is here, and I praise God for that every day.
I’m so thankful that I can call my dad to update him on my day or that we can do our traditional last-minute Christmas shopping together. For me, Father’s Day isn’t just a day in the summer when I stop to tell my dad what he means to me; it’s a day when I stop and whisper “thank you” to my Heavenly Father for all He is to me and for His gift of my dad.
