On May 30, 2014, I received a life-changing diagnosis: Stage 4 lung cancer. Generally, individuals in my situation have about a year left to live, with treatment options focused on comfort rather than cure. While I remain hopeful about potential experimental therapies, I have come to terms with my reality.
Flashback to the summer of 2010: My family and I were at a beach retreat, enjoying the sun and sand. While my loved ones were immersed in fun, I was preoccupied with an overwhelming number of unread emails and unfinished blog ideas. I felt out of place, desperately wishing for a caffeine fix rather than participating in the joyous moments around me.
It wasn’t until the drive home that I experienced a revelation. I realized I had been missing the essence of happiness. I had been living in a state of discontent while experiencing what could have been pure joy. That day marked a turning point for me; I decided to embrace every moment fully. Since that day, I have consciously chosen to see the beauty in life, transforming my perspective from one of frustration to one of gratitude. This decision shifted my existence from a hellish routine to a heavenly experience, where even if I longed for more, I recognized the richness of what I already had.
I discovered my own version of heaven during long car rides with my children. Instead of viewing these trips as tedious, I embraced them as opportunities to connect with my kids, discuss their lives, introduce them to music, and sing together.
Another cherished memory is of waiting on a basketball court for my son to finish school. My daughter, then just two, transformed an ordinary wait into an extraordinary experience. We shared lunches, played pretend games, and rolled a ball back and forth while others played around us. Those moments are forever etched in my memory, a testament to the joy found in the simplest interactions.
However, despite these moments of bliss, there is an underlying sadness. We moved to a beautiful new home in March, a dream house where my children will grow up. Yet, my heart aches knowing that I may not be present to witness their milestones. I have been privileged to raise two happy, intelligent kids, and it pains me to think of them growing up without me. I want to be there for them, to see the world through their eyes.
I also deeply care about my wife. She deserves happiness, and I wish I could ease her burdens. Acceptance of my situation does not negate the sadness; they coexist. While I am aware of my finite time, I recognize the blessings of my life and the love that surrounds me.
As I contemplate the future, I wonder if I should lament my fate or appreciate the life I’ve lived. No matter what lies ahead, I feel incredibly fortunate to have known love and to have shared my life with extraordinary people.
I kindly ask this of you: take the time to engage with my daughter, who is shy and often plays alone. She needs connection. And my son, sensitive and thoughtful, deserves your attention and understanding. Treat him as the intelligent individual he is, answering his questions and guiding his curiosity. Finally, please support my wife. Encourage her to relax and enjoy life, reminding her of her worth beyond simple labels. She is an incredible mother and a remarkable person, and she will continue to raise our kids well.
In March 2015, I passed away from terminal lung cancer. I was 42.
For more insights on the journey of parenthood and family life, check out this post.
Summary: This reflective piece explores the author’s journey with terminal cancer, highlighting the importance of cherishing life’s moments and the joy found in family interactions. Despite the looming sadness of his diagnosis, he emphasizes love and gratitude, offering heartfelt advice on nurturing his children and supporting his wife.