Today is kind of a hard day for me.  I am blessed with a wonderful husband and father to my 3 children, and for that I rejoice.  But I am also remembering my own father today and wishing he was here to see his beautiful, intelligent, amazing grandchildren.  I’m sure I’ve shared the story here in one form or another, but I want to write in memory of him today.

First of all, let me start by saying that my dad wasn’t perfect.  I still have some major daddy issues and I’m doubtful that they will ever go away.  He tried his best, but he was an older father by the time I came along and my brother, mom, and I were his 2nd family.  He had raised his first 3 children in a different era and I think that shaped his parenting philosophy with us.  Also, I was a *lot* like him in that I am stubborn and opinionated.  This led to some major personality clashes!  But he was a good man and took his role as a father seriously.

He started smoking in college and never quit.  Back in the late 70s and early 80s when I was a kid, it wasn’t quite the taboo it is now.  I remember going on road trips and being cooped up in the car for hours with the cigarette smoke.  Something that is unthinkable to me as a parent!  When I was in 6th grade, he had a massive heart attack and multiple (either triple or quadruple, can’t remember right now) bypass surgery.  After that he continued to smoke, but hid it from us.  We knew because we would smell it on him when he came in but he just couldn’t quit.  Then the summer after I graduated college he had a series of mini-strokes.  My mom begged him to quit and I think he did cut back but again…the addiction was stronger than he was.

In the year before I got married, he had some unusual symptoms.  He’d get hard lumps in his neck, terrible pain in his back, and other things that just weren’t normal.  His doctor told him it was because he was getting old and prescribed narcotics for the pain.  About 2 weeks before my wedding, he told me he wasn’t sure he’d be able to walk me down the aisle because the pain was getting so severe.  One night he had trouble breathing and my mom took him to the emergency room.

After multiple tests, he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  Stage 4 terminal lung cancer.  It had metastasized and was incurable.  He might buy time with chemo and radiation, but the cancer would eventually kill him.  This was about 10 days before my wedding.  I considered postponing it, but he wouldn’t let me.  He started undergoing treatment right away.  I prayed that he would be able to see me get married.  I wasn’t even worried about him walking me down the aisle at that point.  I had my bridal portraits done the Tuesday before the wedding and I remember going to the hospital in my wedding dress and veil so he could see me the way I would look on my wedding day…just in case.  I got a lot of funny looks and we had to explain why I was there in full bridal regalia over and over.  I could see the pity in people’s eyes and it was then that I realized just how terrible the whole situation was.  I’d blocked it out until that point because I just wasn’t able to deal with it.

He did make it to my wedding.  He walked me down the aisle and gave me away.  We have some beautiful photographs (our photographer was wonderful, and took extra care to make sure we got some great pictures of him) and I am so grateful for that.  He even came to the reception.  He danced half a song with me, then passed me on to my husband.  And then he danced with my mom.  I huddled in a corner and sobbed, asking people to hide me so that my parents wouldn’t see how upset I was.  There wasn’t a dry eye in the room…everyone from our family and friends to the caterers and servers cried with me.  They’d all heard the story by that point and were deeply moved by their obvious love for one another.

He died on May 4, 2001.  Less than a month after I got married.  Less than 6 weeks after the day he was diagnosed.  We’d barely had enough time to come to grips with the cancer diagnosis, much less begin to wrap our heads around the fact that it would kill him.  It was the worst day of my life. I always told him as a little girl that I wanted him to stop smoking so that he would be there to walk me down the aisle at my wedding.  He was there, barely.  I have ridiculous thoughts of what if?  What if I’d told him I wanted him to stop smoking so he would meet his grandchildren?  What if I’d told him to stop smoking so he could see those grandchildren graduate high school?  Or graduate college?  Or have babies of their own?  What if?  Stupid and irrational, but it haunts me.

When I see people smoking, I often want to share my story with them.  Because it’s more than what happens to you…it’s also about what happens to the people you leave behind.  My mom lost her soul mate.  My kids will never meet their grandfather.  My siblings and I are fatherless.  Knowing that this could have been prevented makes it even harder.  So if you’re a father and a smoker, consider the health issues to yourself but also remember that it’s not just you that will be affected if the smoking takes your life.  Give your kids the gift of a healthy dad this father’s day.  You won’t regret it.