Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

Archive for the category “Recreation”

21 – A Great Number To See


If you have ever sat at a Blackjack table in a casino, having an “ace” and a “face card” or your cards totaling twenty-one is considered a victory. Many times you can beat the dealer with less than twenty-one, such as with eighteen, or even on rare occasions, sixteen. In life, these numbers; sixteen, eighteen, and twenty-one carry their own sort of victories. I now have a daughter who has hit “blackjack” in life, turning twenty-one years of age. Though we recognize adults at the age of eighteen being given rights such as the right to vote and use credit cards, there is still a tendency to look at our young adults, still as kids. But once turning twenty-one, it is official. While I often find myself referring to young adults in the early twenties as “kids,” they are adults. And now, I am officially the Dad of a twenty-one year-old adult.

Officially, my daughter no longer has any restrictions because of her age. She is able to legally do anything she chooses whether going to a casino, dancing at a club, or buying alcohol. With her youthful appearance, it is going to be decades of being “carded,” required to show identification to prove legal age status.

My daughter, in her twenty-one years of life has faced so many challenges already, all the while forming who she is to become. Being adopted, the biggest event in her life, she had no say in, uprooted from one world, placed into another. Being her adoptive parents, we are the only parents she has ever known. And 75% of her life she has been witness to one health crisis after another involving me. Finally, dealing with her parents divorce was challenging I am sure.

All the while, I wanted school to be a priority for her, along with making character and reputation pillars in her life. She grew with an empathy and determination mirroring how I was raised. Admittedly, she was a better student than I was and as she nears the end of her second year of college, she now has her pathway into what she will do as an adult in her sights.

There was no party today for her, at least with her family, as she is overseas. Ironically, this is the second birthday that she is out of the country, the first time, as she was adopted, though I did get to at least celebrate her first birthday with her, this time, she was on her own. But she was surrounded by her friends today for a fun night out for dinner. As grown-ups, we often put so much into birthday parties for our kids, making them super-events, competing with other parents, to make sure we live up to standards. When in reality, I do not think I ever saw my daughter having as great a time on her birthday, than the photos sent to me today.

Birthdays will now just become an annual cycle. I do hope that she does not develop that avoidance thing that comes turning into the next decade. There is no more mystery or challenge with getting away with anything, because she is now of legal age for everything.

But as I found myself, as I often do, going through old photos over the last few weeks, looking at my twenty-one year-old daughter, she is still the same daughter placed in my arms, that I watched grow, year after year after year. What a thrill it has been.

Is It Lack Of Value, Or Lack Of Priorities?


There is a comment that I have come to learn to despise in recent years, especially during the pandemic. “At least they died doing what they enjoyed. They didn’t live in fear.”

(photo courtesy of Katelyn Mathe and North Penn Now news service)

An article came across my news feed a week ago. Two nineteen year-olds were charged with homicide by vehicle among other charges, stemming from the two racing and killing a 62 year-old woman. These are the photos of the killers.

(photos of these two courtesy of Montgomery County District Attorney’s Office and North Penn Now news service)

These two punks, now killers, were racing their cars on a main highway. I am from the area, so I know where the accident occurred. Which makes the next factor for me to have read, seem impossible. The car that impacted the innocent victim, had been travelling 110 miles per hour, twice the speed limit, and like I said, impossible for me to imagine anyone travelling that fast on that road. This was confirmed by an airbag module in the killer’s car. The other punk, was recorded at 95 miles per hour.

They were doing what they enjoyed, even though it was illegal, besides unsafe, and an innocent 62 year-old woman is dead. Pretty sure she did not enjoy her ride, wherever she was headed.

This is not the first story to grab me like this, and piss me off. We had an accident locally in the last couple of years (actually violent accidents happen a lot here, but that is another story). The was a one car accident that killed a teenage driver. It turns out, he too was racing his car, of course illegal, travelling a high rate of speed, crashing into a tree when he lost control. His one parent reported, “he really loved racing his car.”

And of course, during the Covid pandemic. We had a new virus, no vaccine, no treatment, and contagious as hell, and lethal. But many took the recommendations and eventual required precautions as an afront to their rights and liberties to enjoy their lives, that it should be up to them, to be able to go about their business, risk their health, whatever happens happens. And if Covid got them, at least they were doing what they enjoyed. One local business flat out defied government orders to prevent mass infections, remaining open for all to gather and party as if nothing was happening. I knew of at least two patrons who went there, and died suddenly and mysteriously soon after that. Given that they were only in their forties, and where they were previously, it was likely Covid.

Then you take someone like me, in fact thousands of others like me, dealing with late side effects from our cancer treatments decades ago. There are a lot of things we would like to do, and speaking only for myself, it is not about what I enjoy, but rather what I still want to experience.

During the sixth month of my chemotherapy, during the Winter, I asked my oncologist if I could go skiing, concerned if my body could handle the physicalness of the activity. He said that I could, but cautioned me, that because of how warm I would dress, being Winter, I would likely sweat a lot, and this of course could result in me getting sick. And if I got sick, that would have the potential to delay my next treatment. Which that is the last thing any cancer patient wants to happen. So contrary to how some people react, I was just “living in fear,” no, I wanted my treatments to end when they were supposed to. I could skip skiing one year. It was worth it to me.

That was not the only time I have been in that position. Of course, I have documented my issues with my heart, courtesy of my treatments, which of course has kept me from doing things that I enjoy, such as amusement rides and various other recreational activities. Again, the chants of “living in fear” attack, but given that I am still young, yes at 58 years old, I should still have a lot of years left, I have so much more that I want to experience, that are more important than any kind of recreational activity I wish I could do. But the risk of a fatal cardiac event taking away what I want to experience in my life, is not living in fear at all, it is about what is important.

Somehow, I have cheated death through my survivorship more times than I want to count, and I am still here. I have two wonderful daughters that I have been able to see grow to adulthood from infancy, during some of the most serious of my health issues. They are now in the next stage of their lives and it is amazing to watch. And some day, if they choose to get married and have children, I want to be around for that.

So if that means that I need to avoid certain risks, regardless if they are something that I enjoy, I am not doing it out of fear, I do it for the love of my daughters, so that they do not have to deal with grieving the loss of a father well before it should be time. Yes, I still practice the Covid precautions because they matter to me. I miss certain social activities for sure, but my long term goals with my daughters far outweigh any temporary satisfaction I would get from karaoke or going to see a rock concert.

I guess that is a clear difference between the thought process of a 58 year-old man and two teenage punks, whose lives are now officially over. They loved to race their cars. They killed an innocent woman. They did what they enjoyed. Hope it was worth it to them. I am sure they could have had much different lives had they thought about their futures and how much more valuable that would have been to them.

20 Years In The Making


I have achieved many things in my life. I have survived many dire circumstances with my health. But there is one aspect of my life, that tops everything combined, being a Dad. And though March 14th is not a birth date, it became the date that would change who I was/am forever, the day I became a father.

Left unable to have biological children from side effects of my chemotherapy for Hodgkin’s Lymphoma back in 1988 (my radiation therapy gets a pass for this issue), and multiple failed attempts through fertility specialists, a decision had been made that if I were to ever become a father, it would be through adoption. While attending an information meeting on adoption, the influence from a newly adopted toddler named “Lily,” the decision was clear, adoption would by my only opportunity to become a dad. And “Lily” showed me it was meant to happen.

Adoption is a very difficult and serious decision to make, because in most cases, the adopting parents, and in some cases, a mother making a heartbreaking choice to place her child for adoption, are making a choice for someone who has no say in the matter. A child is born unto one parent, and then one day, is in the arms of another, likely never to see their birth parent(s) ever again.

There are two types of adoption, domestic and international. Though laws are fairly strict in the United States as far as adoption are concerned, there are chances that a birth mother could change her mind about the adoption, perhaps even years later. For this reason, and this reason alone, I did not want the heartache of having my child taken away from me, even if it was to return to the birth mother.

With “Lily”, I was introduced to the country of China, the last time I had heard about that country was as a senior in high school, so, a long time ago. My memory of what I learned back then came to the forefront, as China’s “one child” policy had resulted in the need to place many children into other families. And there were many families around the world, not just the United States who were more than happy to build their families partnering with China.

I was originally told to expect to travel March 17th, travel plans had been made. Then two weeks before travel, our date was moved up to March 13th. The adoption process had been halted for a number of months due to the SARS outbreak of 2004, and when international travel had opened again, news could not come soon enough that we would be travelling. Moving up the date made it even sooner.

This is an actual picture from the window of the flight that was taking me to my daughter. Upon landing in Hong Kong, all of us traveling were given even greater news.

Thinking there would be a couple of days before we would all get to meet our children, we were informed to get a good night’s sleep, as we begin the adoption process the next morning, meeting our children, and returning to our hotel with our new family members.

The date was March 14th, 2004. There are many things in Chinese culture that are considered lucky or fortuitous, the color red, lady bugs, and something called “the red thread.” This “thread” is actually imaginary but carries one of the most meaningful connections between those who “hold” that “thread”. And though that “thread” will grow and stretch, it will never break. March 14th already was special to me, my late grandfather’s birthday.

From that morning on, my life changed, taking on a whole new meaning, a whole new purpose. Every decision that I would make was now because someone else was counting on me. To refer to parenting as an “experiment,” is an understatement as I grew up without the typical “nuclear” family, the only thing I knew about fatherhood, was what I would have liked to have and did not, as my parents divorced when I was three years old. My only examples of parenthood came from school friends when I would visit their homes.

But when my oldest daughter was placed in my arms, I never gave another thought to what I missed out on, nor what I saw my friends have. The bond between father and child began at that moment for me, instantaneously. While there is a clear difference between giving birth to become a parent, and through adoption, the emotions of that moment where it begins are the same. It took no time at all for me to want to bring a sister into my daughter’s life.

And that moment came almost two years later. With two daughters, I officially became a “girl dad.” And I was the happiest man on the planet. I felt a purpose, a responsibility, every decision that I made in my life, would have either rewards or consequences that would impact my daughters. There was pressure to make sure as they grew up, that they would learn everything they needed to be a responsible and respectable adult. Priorities were morals and manners, of course schooling, responsibilities and decision making, all the while, being a kid. It is said that 90% of our time together, will be before our children turn 18 years old. And boy did I want to make that time count.

Unfortunately, divorce changed the track a bit, but I did everything I could to stick to the original plan. And unlike my childhood where I barely saw my father, technology made it possible for me to stay in contact with them as much as I was able to do so.

And now, here we are, 20 years later. Both of my daughters are in college, independent of their parents, making their own decisions, with so many more to come. But instead of being in the guidance position, I am now in the advisor role. My daughters face decisions and come to me for assistance as needed, things that I may see that they do not.

My health issues have been well documented on this blog, and during their childhoods, my daughters have been through all of them. They are just now learning about my cancer past which gives them understanding why I have the health maladies that I do. But for me, these 20 years have given me meaning, purpose, drive. With the things that I deal with, these years are not guaranteed by any means. However, I want more, many more years, many more experiences. And my daughters are the reason I will continue to fight for those years and my health. I could not imagine where I would be today without them.

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