Sorry I caused all that cancer

So, next week will be the four year anniversary of my father's death from lung cancer. Despite the fact that it's been several years, I still think of him every day.  It's especially hard considering the troubles I've been going through lately. I could use his presence in my life right now to keep me steady and on track.  One of my regrets is that I caused my father undue stress and worry about me and my life choices.  And I wish that he could be here to see the steps I've taken over the past year to move on with my life on my own.  It's been especially hard because he understood better than anyone else has.  I didn't have to say anything, he just knew and he brought a quiet peace to me when I needed it.  I loved my dad because he loved me without any judgement.

As I've alluded to before, September is a very difficult month because as I approach that anniversary all those memories come flooding back.  Some of that time was like being trapped in a fog of pain that I just couldn't find my way out of.  Cancer is a terrible thing.  The pain of watching a person waste away, to know you cannot do anything to stop it, it's indescribable.  I don't ever want to see another loved one go through it again.

But what bothered me most was when people ask about dad and I would tell them about the cancer, the first question was almost always, "did he smoke?"  And I know people didn't mean it to offend, but let me tell you, it pissed me off every single time. It was an unspoken statement that somehow he had brought it upon himself.  I remember my anger when we were struggling to give Dad the care he needed, to pay for his medications, to get financial assistance.   I heard so many times that there's money for breast cancer, but not lung cancer. There's no funding for lung cancer because people don't see it as a desirable cause to fund.  This despite the fact that lung cancer is much more lethal than breast cancer.  It's just the pink ribbon brigade has better PR.  Why bother with lung cancer?  If people didn't smoke in the first place, they wouldn't get it.

Well, you know what? You should bother with it because it kills people.  It killed my dad.  And my dad didn't deserve to go through the suffering he did.  He didn't deserve to waste away like he did. And I don't care if it was because he smoked.  I loved him and he's gone and every time someone asks, "did he smoke" it's like a knife in my heart. Again and again and again...

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