I wrote a Blog post late last year, when I got the news that my father’s cancer had returned.  He was gravely ill at that time, and had been diagnosed with three different types of cancer.  No one believed he was coming out of this one, alive. He lay in the hospital bed, so sick he could not really speak and we were told to prepare, because his life span could now be measured in months, at best. The Specialists told us that chemotherapy would do nothing but buy him a few more months. He could not be cured. Chemo’ was an expensive ‘waste of time’.

Funeral arrangements were made.  Grieving began. Preparations of all sorts were made because the situation was incredibly dire, and the sorts of words that should be spoken on a daily basis, were hastily spoken so that he knew; so that we all knew where we stood with one another.

No one believed that he was coming back from this one.

Except my dad, who quietly decided that he was.

He didn’t make a fuss about it.  He didn’t ‘beat his chest’ and feel the need to declare that he was awesome, or any such ego-ridden bullshit.  He felt no need to say “Bring it on. I’m going to beat you, motherfucker!” or any equivalent phrase full of shit and anger and pain.  No.  He just quietly went about his business…

And did what he said he was going to do.

He phoned me this morning.

My father is officially in remission.  And all the Specialists with their degrees are standing around, dumbfounded, saying it could not be so; wondering how it could have happened; unable to make sense of why.

Some may call this ‘a miracle’; certainly those who went to church, and have prayed for him will do so.  They will say “God has healed him! Hallelujah”.

I know better.

So does my father.

How do I know?

I am my father’s daughter.

When we say we will do something, we do it.  When we say we have done something, we have done it; no fuss, no fanfare, no “Look at me! I kick fucking ass!”, just a simple statement.

It is no ‘miracle’.  It was not the result of the ‘power of prayer’.  It is just who we are. When he quietly declared that he was beating this, I relaxed. I stood back and watched.  Others doubted.

My father has beaten the ‘unbeatable’, and both he and I know how it was done.

I am my father’s daughter.

And I love him more than the world!


Leave a comment

Filed under In Honour of My Father. Support Cancer Research Please?!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s