Paul's Heart

Life As A Dad, And A Survivor

13 Nov 2021

A Never Ending Cycle


In the movie “Free Guy”, starring Ryan Reynolds, Reynolds’ character wakes up each morning, with the exact scenario, saying “good morning” to his goldfish, Goldie. And he goes through his entire day repeating everything the same, the next, the day after that, and so on. The movie, very reminiscent of Bill Murray’s “Groundhog Day,” but with a very modern twist.

When November comes around, I experience a similar cycle, or at least my mind does. You see, in November, of 1988 to be exact, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s “Disease”, now called Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I will never understand the relevance to whether it is called disease or lymphoma because both are bad, and really, neither word relates to being what it actually is, cancer.

Anyway, my repeating cycle is this, my diagnosis was confirmed just before Thanksgiving. Over the next several months, I underwent diagnostic procedures to figure out just how bad my cancer was. That’s right, over several months means this was over the holiday season.

Up until this point in my life, I looked at Thanksgiving as a time to get together with family, and the Christmas holiday for gatherings and gift giving, joyous times. But in 1988, that all changed. I was angry. And though not an actively practicing Christian, I still had my faith, which would be challenged, as we were supposed to be excited to celebrate the birth of Jesus. But I was at a crossroad. Wanting to rely on my faith, I approached my minister, to help me understand why I had to go through such a trial at one of the most beautiful times of the year. Instead, this “minister” blew me off, saying he had no time for me as the Advent season was upon us, and it was a very busy time in the church. I was on my own, turned away from a representative of the God I am supposed to believe in. I needed help. But there was no time to give me any help.

This is where I can definitely say, I lost my love for not just this holiday season, but for all holidays. I was left to struggle alone with my emotions and questions in a time of year that was all about “getting together.” But in 1988, cancer was still not a word discussed freely, or at least without the look of pending doom. I was alone.

Now, as many are frequent to offer this advice, “but Paul, that was only one year, just get over it.” Word of advice, cancer survivors REALLY HATE THAT EXPRESSION! But that holiday season, and because I was still going through treatments, the following holiday season, my love for holidays was gone. There were opportunities that I could have gained those feelings back, but without the spiritual guidance, the motives were without feeling and passion. I would just go through the motions of the holidays, so that others could enjoy the holidays.

Every year, November would roll around, and I would find myself thinking of this anniversary, wishing I could change the way I thought of the holidays.

I truly thought that once my daughters came into my life, my feelings would change about the holidays. My daughters were innocent, and the joys and expressions each Christmas day were truly genuine, how could someone not feel that, want that? As I had done prior to my daughters, I found myself needing a distraction from the thoughts that annually were in my head, “this is the time of year, the worst days of my life,” which of course I could no longer claim, especially blessed with my daughters, but this feeling was there.

I found myself working EVERY holiday, not just Christmas, but all holidays, including Father’s Day, putting off the morning gift giving until I got home from work. All the other holidays and my birthday, soon meant nothing to me again. And even with divorce, in an attempt to keep conflict to a minimum when it came to custody, I surrendered ALL holidays to their mother, instead opting for days close to the holidays.

My daughters do not know about the struggles I have during this season. All they have known, when they were young, I was working when Santa delivered their presents, and older, after the divorce, they will see me after the holidays. My daughters know about my health struggles because of my cancer treatments from 33 years ago, but very little about the beginning of this journey.

That’s right, it was 33 years ago this month. I officially count my survivorship at 31 years, recognizing the day of my final treatment as my anniversary date, others their diagnosis date. 33 years is nothing to sneeze at. I have gotten to witness so much not just in the advances of treating cancer from better diagnostics and treatments, but my gosh, I could not be more blessed to have two of the best children anyone could ever hope for.

There is still hope, and I really do want to be able to, learn to love this time of year again. One of my daughters promises “lots of grandchildren.” In 2008, I was near death with a heart condition caused by my treatments, and I never thought I would see my daughters even graduate, yet, here I am. I have goals that at one time were unthinkable, and as I approach each milestone, my hope continues to grow. With one daughter graduating this school year, the other the next year, my milestones are simple, college education for them, hopefully marriage, and yes, grandchildren. I am that close, and I can see it.

My life changed in November of 1988, there is no doubt. My cancer does not define who I am. But I am who I am today, because of my cancer. I am eternally grateful for four decades of cancer survivorship and I will be grateful for hopefully the years to come. And it is with that hope, and the milestones I am looking forward to, that perhaps I might find that peace finally in November and December being “the most wonderful time of year.” Better late than never.

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11 Nov 2021

Too Young To Be That Angry


Almost every year, I hear of a story from one of my daughters of a fight that has occurred in their school. Last year, one of those fights made national attention because of the claim of racism, as the fight involved girls pulling the hijab of one of the combatants.

The fight that occurred recently, did not have the racist undertones, but did have something in common with the fight from last year, the amount of force it took to break up the fights. The fight that occurred last year, as it appeared the security guards had controlled both participants, until one broke loose. It should be mentioned, the fighters were both female, and the guards were easily larger in stature. Nonetheless, one broke loose, and once restrained again, continued to exhibit such force, attempting to break loose to return to her target.

The recent fight, also involving females students, took four teachers to subdue the one combatant. FOUR!

Forget the fact, that clearly the school and district will likely hand out severe punishments, possibly either suspensions or even expulsion, pending investigations. Depending on the ages involved, and the type of situation, the law could become involved, resulting in charges.

While it is not uncommon for kids to have differing opinions, disagreements, and altercations, how is it possible for any student to possess so much hatred and anger, requiring four adults to restrain and prevent a student from attacking another? I truly do not understand this. Of course, the first look needs to be directed at the home as this level of animosity is not taught in schools.

I want to say that I have been lucky, not to have received a call that either of my daughters had been involved in a fight. It is not because they are not capable, I assure you they are. My oldest defended her nationality (being Asian) when a 2nd grade racist in training made a clearly racist off-the-cuff comment on the bus ride home from school. While I do wish she handled herself a bit better (she gave the kid a deserved bloody nose), she would later carry herself as she always had, minding her own business. So, while one daughter is very cerebral in confrontations, the other has a strategy of Batman’s Joker (literally will laugh at you while it happens). But they have been taught to accept differences, and most importantly, never to throw the first punch. Neither looks to be involved in any kind of drama. Like I said, I consider myself lucky, but clearly, their records are of their own doing.

Soon I will no longer hear these stories in another year or two. But sad to realize, things have not improved in schools to prevent this level of hatred and anger from exploding into uncontrollable rage in the near forty years I was last in school.

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02 Nov 2021

Another Lesson From Parent To Child


First word. First step. First day at school. Gasp, first date. Watching my daughters grow has been filled with all these wonderful memories. And I know there are many more to come. First job, check. First time behind the wheel of a car, check. But with one daughter now of adult age, and my other not far behind, it is now the next level of “firsts” that will have an even bigger impact on their lives, more than just memories for dear old Dad.

We all remember this scene from the Lion King, where Mufasa and his son Simba overlook Pride Rock as well as when Mufasa explains to Simba where to avoid. Mufasa explains to Simba, “one day, this will all be yours.” It is a turning point Simba, more responsibility, growing up.

It is Election Day where my daughters live. And that means today, will be my older daughter’s first experience voting. I am hoping, as I want it to be, a positive experience for her, one that she should look forward to, and value. I do not remember my first election. I am fairly sure it was a presidential one, likely in 1984. My record in voting until I became a parent, admittedly could be considered spotty, not really having any interest in local politics. Which when you think about it, local politics are just as important if not more so, than the national elections, as your local elections have an immediate impact on you, especially when it comes to your local taxes such as real estate and school district.

I helped my daughter to register to vote. Check.

She received her voter card. Check.

Next, and one of the most important steps, was teaching my daughter, the importance of being an informed voter. Over the last two decades, the foundations of my electoral opinions have been formed and solidified. I do not believe in a two party system, much like Constitution framer John Adams warned about. I do not want to be limited to an “all or nothing” system of support when it comes to my vote. I can agree to some things from each major party, and I definitely detest things from both parties. One thing is certain, there is no “blind faith” or support for each party. I will vote on issues that have an impact on me.

And as I spoke with my daughter about today’s election, I am encouraging her to think that same way. I am doing my best not to lead her to vote for the “lesser of the two evils,” which is how I cynically look at every election. Instead, I want her to be an informed voter. I have taught her how to get informed, and what exactly does “information” look like.

In her first election, is a major decision, for school board directors. There are two slates of candidates, incumbents (those who are currently on the school board), and challengers. Given each of their campaigns, my daughter’s selection should be simple (I want to stress, I have no idea who she will vote for, nor will I ask). Only campaign has spent its time discussing issues, explaining successes, and plans for the future. The other campaign, has offered nothing but smears, lies, incited others to come to board meetings to interrupt and distract from the duties of the school board, as seen many times all across the country. And oddly, during a televised debate, that campaign actually praised the board members, unintentionally I am sure, by acknowledging just how well the school district has done and is doing. But they have offered nothing as far as a platform.

I have told my daughter that it is important not to be distracted by all the craziness of slurs and smears. If she does not hear any issue or platform, there is none. Why would you vote for them then?

So with emphasizing the importance of being an educated voter, and not to follow any red laser dots, comes the big day itself. Clearly, trips to the election poll have changed in recent years and it is important that we get back to the way it used to be, with civility. As a voter, you have the right to cast your vote without being harassed and intimidated. That does not just include walking through the gauntlet of campaign officials on the way inside the poll as they reach out to you, handing you their “recommendations” that my daughter should vote for. I have told her that any interference preventing her from getting inside, or intimidating her, is to call the police and the FBI. Tactics like that are illegal.

No, the next challenge will come when she checks in to vote at her local polling location. She does not possess a drivers license yet, so all she has is her student ID. But as I said, she is a registered voter. Therefore, if she is given a hard time or denied the opportunity to vote, she is to ask and if necessary demand, a “provisional” ballot. This will at least allow her vote to be cast and counted, once election officials deal with whatever bug is up their collective asses with a legitimate voter.

I explained to her, how to operate the voting booth, making sure she finalizes everything by pressing the final button to submit.

And then finally, as she exits the poll, hold her head high for doing not just her civic duty, but something she is guaranteed by the Constitution, vote for her representation. This is how a democracy is supposed to work, not the way we have seen over the last year. It will likely not be known until the morning who the victors will be, and unless the votes are close enough, we accept the results. That is how it works.

Final lesson for my daughter, voting is her right, her choice. She does not need nor is required, to discuss who she votes for, EVER! In fact, it is incumbent upon her not to discuss her politics with others. Actually, this is a lesson I have explained to her as personal for her, just as any religion. To discuss her opinions and choices is to invite potential adversity that she does not want, need, or deserve in her life. It is enough, just to for her to know, that she made an informed decision count on days like today.

Another first completed from parent to child. Still so many more to come.

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