Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Adoption”

My Wish For My Daughter


She has come a long way, literally and figuratively. A blessing from China, when the option of becoming a father was not possible any other way, my daughter is taking her next steps, into her direction of life, that is by her own will. And it is a strong will that she has.

The term “matching” was used during the adoption process. The Chinese Center of Adoption Affairs takes the information of the parents from their biography, and “matches” that to a child. A family is created through the process of international adoption.

Being a cancer survivor and unable to have biological children, China gave me the opportunity I did not have in the United States, becoming a father.

The oldest of my two daughters, she is a role model for her younger sister, who is just a year behind graduation. Together, they have made a great team who liked to help, laugh, and love. Each has their own personalities, their own interests, and their own ways to get to this day.

For my older daughter, there is a natural progression to her, a gift if you will. She is easily frustrated with practice as she is a quick study, even with something she has never been taught as was pointed out by her karate sensei handling and using a weapon, a staff, which she had never been shown before, for reasons of her age group not qualified for weapons. She was flawless.

Or dance class, just wanting to dance, not wanting to wait for it to be her turn. One demonstration was all it took for her to learn a routine.

Out of nowhere, almost ten years ago, she picked up a pencil, and started drawing faces. This was not elementary school drawings of circles inside of circles and a curved line for a smile. These were completely recognizable faces in the style of “manga.” Again, this is just something she picked up, and to say she developed is an understatement. I am not allowed to show any of these samples, which are quite good, but it is her artwork. And she is her own worst critic. So she says “no.”

Toward the end of her middle school years, she was given an opportunity to attend a technical school which would advance and challenge her imagination and eventually give her the direction she would choose in life. Again, I am prevented by her from sharing these drawings (she is critical of herself, I say she has established herself as a “diva”), but I have no doubt, as she completes the next level of her education, and establishes herself in the world of “advertising design,” she will establish herself as one of the best, unable to hide a gift that she was clearly born with.

Maddie, you were the first to call me “Daddy.” You taught me how to care for someone and be responsible for someone, not old enough or able to do so on her own. You made me care about my decisions that I made in life, as they would not only affect me, but you, and your sister as well. You taught me to pay attention to others needs, sometimes without the availability of words. You challenged me to make decisions that would seem to go against the rules, but we would make memories out of them to last forever.

You brought a tear to my eye as you reached my height. After being a not-so-gentlemanly teenager myself, I became hyper aware once I heard a boy’s name mentioned from you. And then, getting to meet one of them. Talk about feeling out of sorts in how I was supposed to act. I had no intention of embarrassing you, as you clearly liked the boy, but by the same token, I had no idea how I was supposed to act either, a new experience for me.

Your confidence really has no limit. It is too bad you still have not recognized that. But you have every reason to be confident in what you have done, and what you will do. I will always be proud of you. I will always stand behind you and your efforts. And I will always, definitely be there for you as you begin this thing called “life.”

Congratulations on your graduation! I am so proud of you.

My Daughter’s Graduation – A Milestone I Almost Did Not Get To See


I am not being hyperbolic. To be clear, in April of 2008, I was dying. I was unaware that I had a heart condition, caused by radiation and chemoptherapies for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma back in 1988. Unbeknownst to medicine, if I were to live long enough after my treatments, it was likely my body would develop late side effects, some minor, and some major. My cardiologist called me “the luckiest guy on the planet,” for surviving a condition commonly fatal when medical intervention was not available quickly enough when that massive fatal heart attack, some refer to as a “widow maker” would strike, not if, but when.

My life would be rocked with another near fatal episode, taken out of my home in an ambulance at 3am. I was diagnosed with pneumonia, and I was septic. My body was reacting horribly to the infection from the pneumonia, caused by another one of those late effects from my treatments, and now, my body was fighting itself in an out-of-control and toxic path. Time was of the essence.

I would face several other surgeries and conditions, though not as imminent, but they were to the point that intervention was necessary, or, things could end up badly. In other words, the risk of corrective surgery was less than the event itself (a stroke or heart attack).

No one knows more than me, all too well, what it has meant to me, not just to be the father to two beautiful and intelligent young women, but to be able to watch them grow. It has been fourteen years since that first major heart surgery. I have literally thousands of memories over the years, that I got to have. I remember each and every one of them, when, and where they took place.

The life of a long term cancer survivor has not been easy for me, and to call it unpredictable is an understatement. There was no guarantee that I would live past five years, let alone 32 years. Yet, here I am.

I will never forget the words of the doctor who accepted me as his patient, even though I had never been seen in his network before. “I cannot stop the things that are happening to you. I cannot reverse the things that are happening to you. But we can slow them down. I want you to be able to watch your daughters grow, graduate, get married, and even give you grandchildren.” My daughters were five and three at the time. I just found out that I had escaped a near death experience with my heart, and this doctor was telling me, he was going to be there to help me live long enough to see all these things come true.

Well, here I am at yet another of those milestones my doctor mentioned to me, graduation. We did it. It has certainly not been easy. But in just days, I will see my oldest daughter graduate high school, and the next year, my youngest daughter get her diploma as well. I know how close it came to me not seeing this day. Again, not hyperbole.

But as the memories show, it has been a great ride, and I am hoping my doctor continues to be correct, and there will be many more photos.

The 2nd Chance For My Dad


This time of year is always difficult on me. And instead of getting easier, this year it has actually been the hardest for me. It was eight years ago yesterday, I lost my father to lung cancer. There are several factors that have made this a difficult day more so this year than others. But perhaps, this year, will lead to better years.

I would describe the relationship with my father in two parts. The first part, and the one that would have the biggest impact on me, would best be described as barely existent, estranged for the most part. I am an adult child of a divorce, and the relationship with my father during my childhood was a result of stereotypical behaviors associated with a divorce involving children leading to both my father and I making choices we would both regret later in life.

When we made amends with each other, it was in my mid-to-late twenties. My father would tell me many times throughout the rest of his life, that he “wished things would have been different.” When I adopted my daughters, I told him, though we cannot change what happened, he has the chance to be the best grandfather a child could have. And that would mean so much to me, as well as to him.

There are a lot of fun “grandparent” stories about my father, including his one and only sleep over with two very active granddaughters who like to explore at three in the morning.

But today’s post is about a particular time in my life with my Dad, and its current relation to today.

As I said, my relationship with my father was strained, and through my teen years, it became more difficult for me to deal with. Soon, I would even stop going with him for his parental visitation, because I was that annoyed, even angry. I cannot even tell you what it was about, only that I was told how I was being treated. I could not see it in the beginning, but over time, I came to see at that time, everyone else was right, and my father was wrong.

I was going to give him one final chance. I was going to be graduating high school, and I had a ticket for him. I mailed him the ticket, along with a short note. It was to the point. “I need you to come to my graduation. If you do not, I don’t ever want to see you again. It will be the last time that you disappoint me.” Long story short, he never came. He was living ten minutes from me, and never stopped by, never sent a card, never made a phone call. As far as I was concerned, I was done.

Spoiler alert, my dad and I having made amends, took the opportunity that I had offered, to be a great grandfather to his granddaughters.

It was near the beginning of his diagnosis of lung cancer, that I had filed for my second divorce. There were actually several things going on in my life that were all stressful at that same time. I did not want to burden my father with my divorce because he knew how his divorce affected me, and did not want that for my daughters. While he offered me emotional support, because unlike my first divorce, this divorce would involve my children, something that he could relate to. But soon into his diagnosis, I would no longer talk to him about my case, though he would ask. It was just not fair to burden him with what was being done to me.

It has been eight years since he passed. And now, his oldest granddaughter, by me, is graduating from high school. And it is causing a lot of flashbacks for me, some quite hurtful. The comparisons cannot be any more different in the choices my father and I made as parents. My father would eventually fade from my childhood, not even with the challenge of a complete severance of our relationship could convince him to show I was important to him.

Unlike the choices my father made in his divorce, I made a promise to myself, and to my daughters, that I would be different. Oh, I heard plenty of screams of “you are just like your father” from the various “flying monkeys” (Wizard of Oz reference, you figure it out). Nothing could have been further from the truth.

I did everything I could to be involved with my daughters, at least within my abilities. If I asked, I was answered. If I did not know, I was not told. So, yes, I did everything I could. The most difficult decision I had to make, and the explanation worthy of a post on its own, was where I chose to live, and sadly, it was more than 1300 miles away. As one friend put it, “it had to be pretty bad for you to move that far away from your daughters.” Hard to believe, there have been moments, when it appeared not be far enough. But, I made it work, at least on my end. A custody order was written, and I honored the order to the letter, modifying the order over the next several years as the girls got older. Again, if I knew of something, I was there. I have so many memories of my daughters in the years that I missed with my father when I was younger. Even Covid19 could not interfere with the love and need to be with my daughters in their lives. No, I was nothing like my father in this divorce.

So, here I am, about to see my oldest daughter graduate high school. There are already comments on how weepy-eyed I will be, and admittedly, I know I will not be able to control myself. The odds of me seeing this day because of all of my health issues did not have me being here. But the last eight years of my divorce could have easily turned out much differently.

My Dad fortunately did not get to see how things had gone for me during this process, but I do believe, that if he were here today, he would be sitting with us in the stands to watch his granddaughter graduate. And as I told him long ago, “it is too late for you to be my Dad, but you have all the time in the world to be a grandfather to your granddaughters.” Yes, he did pass away before this time came, but it was that 2nd chance he got with my daughters, and the influence he had on me, that completely make up for the opportunity that he and I did not have. And I know he will be looking down on us that night, proud of his granddaughter, proud of his son.

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