My Father Died of Lung Cancer-Day 34

Happy Thursday to you. I wish you a wonderful day. May you smile more than you frown. "A smile is just a frown turned upside down, my friend...." (the Temptations-"Smiling Faces"). I feel really good when I am greeted with a smile rather than a frown, as though I have done something wrong. I find many people here in South Florida appear to have either straight faces (no expressions) or frowns, as opposed to just a nice welcoming smile. I choose to be happy, and I want to make as people happy as I can. I choose life.;)

My father passed away September 4, 2000. He was only sixty-five years old. It makes me very sad to think about it. I grew up in a nontraditional family, as a child, especially in the Black community. Most children that are raised by a single parent in the African American community, are reared by their mothers. We were reared by my dad, a strong Black man.

I do not even know where to start to tell you that my father died from lung cancer. But I will start from after I departed my father's house after I graduated from high school. I was seventeen (17) years old.

After my father had beat me and I left, my life went forward. I did not speak to my dad for a year or so, after the beating. Then we eventually reunited and I was his "baby girl" again.

My dad was a smoker most of his life. He told me, as a child, that he started smoking at the age of twelve. My father smoked the Kool Milds brand.

After my dad remarried, he continued working at Ford Motor Company, as a welder. My father was a smart man, he received only his high school education, but he had alot of "common sense", and USED IT. My dad use to tell me, "if more Black people would use just a little common sense, they would be alot better off. I did not understand his words then, but, my goodness, they make so much sense to me now. Many Black people do not use basic common sense.

My dad and I were very close. I spoke to him on the telephone almost daily, when I left Detroit. I returned to Detroit several times just to visit my dad. He would confide in me about his marriage, my siblings and his life in Detroit. He told me that he would love to one day come and live with me in Arkansas. My dad was ready for peace in his life. However, a sequence of events would intervene and bring my dad to my home and take his life much too early.

Prior to my dad being diagnosed with cancer, he was doing well. He was traveling. He traveled to Arkansas to visit with me and my family. He stayed in my home, during his visit. He would always remind me that I "was more like him than any of his children". (Thank you daddy). My father was very proud of me. (I can not say that I deserved this admiration, but I appreciated it.) He was proud to have a daughter as an attorney, while remembering how his father had only completed the third grade in school. Moreover, one day I received a call from my dad, telling me that he went to the doctor because of stomach pain, and the doctor told him of his impending death. He was told that he had about ninety days to live.

After this diagnosis and traditional treatment, my father lived lessed than ninety days(90). I begged my dad not to accept chemo-therapy and/or radiation treatment. These traditional treatments mostly destroy the body. I told my dad to have the surgery, instead, to remove the cancerous lung. But low and behold, his wife convinced him to have the traditional treatment. (chemo-therapy and radiation). My dad went from 240lbs to a mere 150lbs, at the time of his death. How do I know?

The last month of his life my dad demanded "I want to go to live with my daughter". He was referring to me. I flew my dad, my oldest sister, and her youngest son into Arkansas from Detroit to come and live with me. I asked my sister to come so she could help me with my dad, because I had to work, and I did not want him to be alone. It was a tumultuous household, but my dad was with me, where he wanted to be. I tried to make him as comfortable as I could. My sister was a big help. (Thank you Sis for helping me to take care of our father).

My father eventually died in my home, I was sitting next to him crying. He looked at me as he was in distress, as though he was telling me..."I am ready for this to end". The man who was the strongest link in our family chain, was gone. Time has revealed without my dad's strength and direction, the family would go awry.

As a side note, I would like to note that my father left me in charge of his estate. I was the Executor. He trusted that I would take care of his business for him, and I am glad to report that I did.

Rest In Peace Daddy. I have made it my mission to pass on the knowledge, the way you passed it on to your children. I want people to hear the alarm ringing. IT IS TIME TO WAKE UP.

Have a great day.

L. for Love