I was 13 when dad was diagnosed with mesothelioma.
I did not know what it meant to her diagnosis until I began to see his health deteriorate. For a child of 13 years, mesothelioma is just a long word meaning sick.
The sicker he became, the more our family dynamic has changed. My elder brother was married, and he worked on the construction of a family of his own. My older sister had a job and worked on getting his own apartment.
My mother was barely in her 40s, and she worked on do a good husband. She took the role of caregiver that his health has worsened.
Then there was me.
I am in the 9th grade, and I was working on getting a boyfriend. But I took the crucial role of the housewife.
Meanwhile, I was still a teenager. I had my friends and boys to keep me busy. This was my first year of high school, and there were many implications. It was the year that could define my career, but above all, it marked the first year I had a real formal dance to attend. I had dreamed of this day all summer.
Setting high school while dealing with problems at home
This dance occupied my thoughts for the summer of 1994. I had contemplated the dance would be the best night of my life. My crush, a British transfer student that was beautiful and had a boot accent asked me to dance. My life was full
But I did not know -. Or chose to ignore - the bubbling agitation under the surface of my life at home. My father was fighting a disease, and I could not understand the strength and courage he has gathered in his fight.
I just saw the dishes must be washed, and a dress that I need to buy. My mother promised to take me to buy the dress, but as the days passed, my father's health deteriorated further and she could not leave him.
It's not like I did not understand. I could see it every time I looked.
But I adjusted. I learned to go to school without disturbing anyone, wake up at the first alarm screams crack because if I do not, I knew that my father stagger down the hall to my room and wake me . I knew all I had worried all summer just does not matter anymore.
My father got wind of my high school troubles. He had heard my date me on the phone that I would not be able to attend the dance. He upset my father. Later, he said he wanted me to go. In fact, he insisted that I go and told my mother to take me to buy a fabulous dress.
dealing with the Bad News
He was more worried about me and my high school dance than anything else. My mother arranged for my uncle to stay with my father while we went shopping.
I found the perfect little black dress at the first store. It was beautiful. My mother smiled and said, "This is it!" She bought the dress, and we headed home.
That night, my father told me he did not think he would be alive much longer. My heart sank, but I made no expression. I showed him how his illness hurt me. I did not add my emotions to his list of worries.
He also told me that night he did not think he would ever see snow again. But when I woke up the next morning October 29, 1993, there were four inches of snow already on the ground, and it was still falling.
It was rare to have significant snowfall in October, even by Cincinnati standards. My father smiled at me and said:. "Look, it's snowing" I did not know at the time how happy he did
'You Sure grew
that night was the dance: Homecoming 1993.
I had to prepare myself I'm lost in the hair and makeup for hours I walked out of my room a princess I walked the hallway... and dad standing to greet me. I did not see standing in days. Our eyes met, and filled with tears.
I asked, "what's wrong ? "He replied:" Nothing, I've never seen you this way. You are very beautiful. You sure grew up. "
His smile is all the fuss is worth it. We waited together for my arrival. My date came and shook hands with my father. As we started, I turned to see the porch light blurred by falling snow stable.
Four days later, my father took his last breath.
These memories serve as reminders that when someone in your family becomes ill, we must take care of them. Our roles change as needed. someone else may have to take over the functions of the house and the meals are, so another can serve as a nurse.
that's what families do. they love and they care about each other, especially when someone gets sick.
But sometimes a caregiver needs to take time. We are all human, and I came to the realization of the person you are providing care is aware of the sacrifices you make.
My father wanted me to go to my first formal dance as much as I did. He was fighting his own battles, but he still wanted to see his little princess ride off with her prince in her stunning little black dress.
