I think about my Dad all the time. He usually makes an appearance in my dreams. The problem with this is my way of thinking. No matter how happy the memory, or how funny the dream, I always seem to end my thought with, “but that was before he got sick.” Why can’t I let myself remember without the negative creeping in?
I struggle with this question often. My Dad was a funny, caring, loving man who would not want me to remember my time with him as anything but wonderful. I finally realized that by letting myself focus on the negative, I am demeaning my memories. I am depriving myself of all of the happiness that Dad brought to my life, and he deserves so much more than that. Mesothelioma didn’t define my father, why should I let it cloud my memory?
Mesothelioma doesn’t get to win anymore. This disease took my father, but I will not allow it to take his memory from me. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth the fight! From now on, I look back with fondness and with thanksgiving that I got to spend 30 years with the wonderful person I got to call “Dad.” I will reminisce with joy and not sorrow at all of the fun that we had, and I thank God that he gave him to my family.