This Sunday is Father’s Day for many. It will be recognized in all of its forms. We will celebrate the fathers who are present every day, offering love, guidance, sacrifice, and support. We will also recognize the grandfathers, stepfathers, and other father figures who have stepped forward when a child needed them the most. For me, Father’s Day is the most important part of my cancer survivorship. Every additional year with my daughters I know the blessings that I have.
We also carry in our hearts, thoughts for those whose Father’s Day carries both love and loss, the sons and daughters whose fathers have passed away, may the memories, lessons and love they left behind, continue to bring comfort and strength. My father gone now fourteen years, the loss is still felt as the day it happened.
And then there are those who lost their fathers during childhood, we recognize the lifelong impact of that absence and the courage it takes to grow through such a loss. I have several friends in this situation, and honestly, is one of the things that scares me most with all of the health issues that I have. I am in no way ready to go, but I am afraid, knowing that I have no say when that time comes, of the hurt and loss my daughters will carry. I have seen it with my friends. All I can do is hope that time is lessened by me getting more years.
Likely one of the most heartbreaking of circumstances, there are the fathers who have experienced the unimaginable loss of a child, whose enduring love and the bond that neither time nor death can ever erase. Again, I have friends who have experienced this, too many friends. But I am always amazed with the memories that carry and cherish to keep their children alive in their hearts.
Then there are those who are separated or estranged from their fathers through circumstances beyond their control – whether because of divorce, family conflict, distance, or other hardships. We acknowledge the pain, confusion, and unanswered questions that often accompany those relationships. As an ACOD, adult child of divorce, I know this first hand. I rarely talked with my father about it, which unfortunately with him gone, I still have unanswered questions. But I know there are fifteen Father’s Days, that we were not together in my childhood because of it.
Likelwise, there are fathers who are separated or estranged from their children through circumstances beyond their control, we recognize the heartache of missing milestones, celebrations, and everyday moments that can never be replaced. Again, as an ACOD, I did all I could to avoid what my father experienced and decided, my goal was to eliminate or prevent any hurt that my daughters could experience. But it is not uncommon for fathers to face so many hurdles, and to be fair, some mothers as well (but this is a Father’s Day piece), between the multitude of opponents, the courts, and anyone else who decides it is their business to interfere in the custody of a child and their father.
And while Father’s Day is a day of compassion, it is also a reminder of responsibility. Fatherhood is more than biology – it is commitment, presence, protection, and love. We cannot ignore the pain caused when a parent willingly abandons or desecrates those responsibilities, turns their backs on their children, or leaves lasting wounds through neglect, abuse, disrespect, and absence. Every year, I get replies to my annual posts on Father’s Day, reminding me that there are those fathers who do not deserve to be recognized. And I get it. But it does not mean that I and millions of others should not get to celebrate it.
Father’s Day is about those who choose to show up, do what is all possible to show up, to love, to sacrifice, to protect, and to remain present even when the path is difficult. With technology this can be as simple as a Facetime call.
For all those who will be celebrating with joy this weekend, remember the sorrow, long for the reconciliation or carry the weight of loss, that they can find peace, healing, and hope.
It certainly took long enough, definitely longer than I thought it would, and then last night, as I realized it was going to happen real soon, it took even longer. I was taking screenshots of the counter, for just before, and then when 100,000 was hit. But as most things in life, not having control, my counter went cuckoo as multiple visits registered at the same time.
Though I am a 37 year cancer survivor of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, I did not start the concept of Paul’s Heart until thirteen years ago, five years after I became aware of the complicated health issues I had and was developing due to the treatments of my cancer back in 1988 at the age of 22, just out of college.
I have always enjoyed writing. I actually have kept school assignments from elementary, junior high school, and high school. I always got good grades. In junior high school, I began writing song lyrics (though very tacky and cheesy) and poems, but it was documentary and testimonial pieces I enjoyed writing most. In college, I experienced my first bad and quite rude critique, and the way I handled it was definitely wrong. My professor not only handed me my first “F” (I had never had less than an “A” on any writing assignment), but my professor also wrote in big RED letters, “you don’t have the intelligence to get past a comic strip page.” And with that, I dropped out of her class. I was devastated. I felt I was a good writer. It was one thing to get a bad grade, after all, grading a paper is subjective, but the insult definitely crushed me. And I stopped writing, for a long time.
But it was during my later years of survivorship, my passion and my need for writing returned. As a patient and survivor advocate, I often encourage people to put their feelings and experiences down in writing. There is a catharsis, a releasing of pent-up emotions, stress, or trauma, resulting in a feeling of relief, renewal, or emotional cleansing that comes when you let those feelings leave your body. This is especially good if you have an aversion to speaking to a therapist, which I can tell you, is also a good option.
In 2013, I created Paul’s Heart originally with the web address http://www.pedelmanjr.com , later adding http://www.paulsheart.com . I have published 1323 posts over those years, averaging about 8 posts a month, sometimes a lot more, sometimes a lot less. I still have 285 sitting in a cue to finish, stalled by writer’s block or distracted by other topics that came up in the meantime, now sitting in their own purgatory. I have 48 pages, short stories also published on this site, as well as links to other resources. I have allowed comments to my posts, well, except for a few trolls (their comments are actually saved should I ever decided to approve them). I avoid only two topics by choice if it can be avoided, politics and religion, unless there is a tie to cancer, health care, and survivorship.
It definitely took a lot long to hit this milestone than I thought. At least in the beginning, average views to the page were around 20, and depending on the topic, there would be hundreds of views. It had been my hope, that in spite of Hodgkin’s Lymphoma being considered a rare cancer, Paul’s Heart would hopefully finally get Hodgkin’s on the conversation map. I am a small fish, not like the American Cancer Society or the Leukemia Lymphoma Society, but unlike them, I am solely focusing on Hodgkin’s and long term survivorship. Little ol’ me, not famous, not rich, and without the help of anyone famous who had also recently dealt with Hodgkin’s who had an opportunity to draw attention to the cancer we shared (Michael C. Hall “Dexter”, Martin Fry – lead singer of 80’s band ABC, comedian Dick Gregory, actor DJ Quals, literal “Survivor” Ethan Zohn, Pittsburgh Penguin hockey great Mario Lemieux, Kansas City Chiefs Eric Berry, and though he has passed, Microsoft founder Paul Allen), though in fairness, as anyone who has dealt with cancer, nobody wants to stay in the cancer world once they are done with treatment and in remission. I am an anomoly. For me, it is my way of giving back for the efforts of those who saved me.
So yes, I am doing this one post at a time, one person at a time. I am also doing this organically. This count was done with the efforts of those who follow or read Paul’s Heart, and then share it. Word only gets out, when it gets passed around. Not once did I ever pay to publicize any of my stories here. 100,000 views is a legit and honest effort!
I have also expanded Paul’s Heart with 2 Facebook pages, both titled Paul’s Heart, I am on Youtube at @paulsheart, and have a Paul’s Heart page on Tiktok at @paulsheart2022 where I rank in the top 10% of creators with the similar follower counts.
I have been doing peer to peer counseling with patients and survivors nearly my entire survivorship. I have given countless survivorship speeches and interviews on cancer survivorship, though still waiting for that one big opportunity with major media, but I realize the big ones don’t care about publicizing happy stories. And then of course, I got to publish so many projects, newsletters and book anthologies for other organizations (like Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center). I even got to have one of my stories performed by broadway actors, that was way cool (see the link on this page “My Dad Was Just Like Me”). And then finally, my biggest effort, publishing my own book, called “Paul’s Heart – Life As A Dad And A 35-Year Cancer Survivor,” available on Amazon. And I have four more book projects started and undoubtedly will either need to do another book on my survivorship as I have lived even longer, or at least do a second edition. I am also working on doing an audible version of the book. One other thing I would like to do, is create a podcast.
I have tried to balance my topics here not just with things related to cancer and survivorship, but with all things, life after cancer, a life that definitely was no longer like what I was doing before cancer. I have shared stories of other survivors, and memorialized those who have passed. I have dealt with everything from relationships (married twice, divorced twice), to employment issues, and even dabbled in local politics as a school board candidate (an interesting experience). But perhaps the biggest thing that I got to share here, was my experiences with parenthood. The BEST THING hands down about my 37 year cancer survivorship is being the Dad of two of the most wonderful, intelligent, beautiful, kind, empathetic, all around, best daughters a Dad could ever hope for. They were not there when I dealt with my cancer, but they have witnessed the last 18 years of my difficult survivorship with all the health issues that I face. Only in recent years do they understand the gravity how serious some of these issues are, because now as adults, they are included in all of my appointments. There is no one that matters more to me than my daughters and each and every moment I get to spend and witness with them. This unconditional love has been the bond that has kept us together, and going, and keeps me going wanting so many more years of time with them, to see what else they accomplish.
Today is a big day for Paul’s Heart. It is a compilation of so many things that have come together, hopefully achieving what I set out to do when I was told I was in remission, making a difference, wanting to inspire others facing cancer and survivorship, even if one at a time.
And though I am sure that old battleax of a professor is no longer in this time and place, whereever she is, I am hoping she can see the two finger salute I am giving her. Her words did not stop me forever and I am quite proud to have done what I have. And finally, my daughters have their legacy of their Dad to be immortalized forever, right at their fingertips.
March 14th has two meanings in my life. My maternal grandfather’s birthday was that date, a date I will never forget, because of what happened twenty-two years ago, the day I became a Dad. I need to mention, I am not making reference to my daughter’s birthday, but rather the day she was placed into my arms, and through the adoption process, became my daughter. Those of us in the adoption community refer to this date in many ways, “Gotcha Day” or “Forever Family Day.” So each year, both of my daughters have two dates that get celebrated, their adoption date, and their birthday.
Both of my daughters, now adults, understand how the decision came to be, that I would seek adopting them. Cancer treatments had left me unable to have biological children, and scientific alternative methods were also unsuccessful. If I was going to be a Dad, adoption would be my only option. And once the decision was made, where and from who, on March 14, 2004, the day after I landed in mainland China, my oldest daughter was placed into my arms. I was a Dad.
My experience, or rather role models for fatherhood were lacking, as my parents had divorced when I was three years old. Unfortunately from there, my relationship with my father grew estranged until we had made amends in my adulthood (long story, not for this post). But I really had no role models or ideas what a father was supposed to be like, other than when I would spend time at a friend’s house, and see how their fathers were. I had two main friends in high school that I watched and gained this experience. But still, would it be enough, for the day when it came, that I was responsible for a tiny young being, reliant on me, my responsibility to keep safe, to teach, and to prepare? Sure, I read all of the bedtime stories, went through the Santa and Easter Bunny traditions, helped with homework, and assisted with preparations for college. As adults, I now need to make sure that my daughters learn all they can about the adult responsibilities they will need to handle.
As much as I had to teach her, it was her that taught me so much. Things I would learn from her, her younger sister would benefit from that. As my oldest daughter, it was she who taught me patience. Seriously, as adults, we rush to get to work or to the movies, we expect things to go smoothly as planned, we want things the way we want them. That does not happen once you become a Dad. If she decided she was not going to wear something that I picked out, that was a battle I was going to have to choose if I wanted or not, usually not. And as much as I could plan things out, even with my daughter, if she had other thoughts, that would be extra time being dealt with, no matter what deadline or need was waiting.
And then there was taking extra time, not her, but me. I got a whole new perspective on things and life, through her eyes, appreciating all the things that she enjoyed, and why she enjoyed them. It could be a butterfly, the moon, whatever, each thing that she expressed amazement with, was from a perspective of an innocence I had not thought of.
I believe I always had empathy, definitely a result of having gone through cancer. But I learned to be much softer and more aware of someone else’s feelings, and they mattered to me. So I became a better listener. I needed to hear and listen what she was feeling, because that mattered. Life was no longer just about me, but what she thought of and worried about, mattered to me.
If there is one thing that I have been constant with both my daughters, is that I need to be there for them, I want to be there for them. The drives to school. The anticipation waiting for my daughters to wake up for Christmas presents and Easter baskets. Both have learned that they will always be able to count on me. Of course, they also realize with my health issues from my treatments, those days do not come easy. If there were any regret I have, is that I probably worked too hard, too much, too often. And there would be things I would miss. But I always felt that I was doing good by earning more, to provide more, to be able to do more, until my oldest asked one day, “how come you are never home Daddy?”, a fair question of my 50-60 hour work weeks plus weekend side work. All she wanted, and clearly missed, was time with Daddy.
There is not one moment that went by, too big or too small, that was not an opportunity to enjoy the “little things.” Through their eyes, my daughters taught me the world is a beautiful place. We got caught in a downpour of rain while riding bikes. Who cared?!? My daughter’s love of all creatures, even the lizards and water bugs that found their way into our pool deserved to be rescued.
The one thing I could not learn from my friends parents, was how to be vulnerable, to be okay when it came to being emotional. There was no preparedness to deal with fear and pain my daughters would experience from hospitalizations, to loss, whether it be friendships or family member passings. There have been countless times that both of my daughters have brought out so much pride as their father, that my eyes leaked. And that was okay. As they got older, their needs changed, situations got more complicated, and that meant that we all had to adapt. And that meant more patience. I must admit, I know that both my daughters have me wrapped around their fingers. There is nothing I would not do for them.
And because I always knew that I was being watched, the things I did and said mattered. I am not known for using foul language in conversations. My daughters do not see me drink and drive. I have done what I can to be their role model for when/if the time comes that they get involved with someone, and that ends up for the rest of their lives. I have made sure that it matters to them, that they are as respected as the respect they will give their significant other. They are to stand firm in what they believe, remember the virtues that I displayed for them, as that will make them the best person they can be.
And when it comes to love, and being loved, both my daughters taught me what that feels like and what it means to have that in your life.
Every year, on this date, I think about how my life changed, now twenty-two years ago. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not only has she been a great daughter, but also a great older sister.
I heard a very profound quote the other day, and I am paraphrasing, “I have spent most of my life, learning to live with you. And now, I spend my life teaching you everything necessary in life for the time you have to live without me.” And that hits hard as a 36 year cancer survivor with a very complicated health history. My daughters have family and friends who have lost parents. I am no one special to deserve to still be here with all that I deal with health wise, but I do have enormous pressure to make sure that my daughters learn everything they need to not just succeed in life, but thrive, before anything happens to me.
Being a Dad has been one of the most meaningful things of my life, and I have been twice blessed. My purpose in life changed the days that both of you were placed in my arms. I am proud of both my daughters in ways that can never be put into words. Both have great opportunities ahead of them, fearless, strong, and oh yes, determined. My biggest influence on them, is that hopefully I have given them the confidence to believe in themselves as I believe in them. They are both capable of achieving anything they set out to do, they carry my last name. And I hope that I have been the role model to them, that I did not have, to learn what strength is, what sacrifice looks like, and what unconditional love is like, because I know that is what we have, and no one, and I mean NO ONE can ever take that away. When things get hard, and life gets overwhelming, they will be able to hear the kind and supportive voice of their Dad in their heads, that they can get through anything. They are my daughters.
I love you Madison and Emmalie. For as much time as I still have left, and no matter how old you grow, you will never lose this enormous hold and space in my heart. But admittedly, forever you will always be my little girls. And you will never be alone.
American Cancer On-Line Resources
Internet support from peers, caregivers, survivors, and professionals in several hundred types of cancers and related issues
American Cancer On-Line Resources
Internet support from peers, caregivers, survivors, and professionals in several hundred types of cancers and related issues
