A Letter to My Dad: Post Grad

Dear Dad,

I did it! I graduated from college! As this day approached, I have had a plethora of emotions, both negative and positive. Lately, I have been throwing fits about different aspects of my life — my friends, my family, my education, my future, etc. While you were battling cancer, one of your biggest concerns was my future… you told everyone that, and not because you were worried I wasn’t going to be successful, but because you knew you were my person. You made it very clear that you wanted your circle of family and friends to take care of me and look over me. I get it — all you knew dying was that I was going to college for the next 4 years or so. Every time I think about my graduation ceremony, I immediately tear up because I wish you were going to be there. During the times I am supposed to be the happiest, I always miss you the most.

I know you immigrated from India to this country with nothing in your pockets when you were my age so you could give your daughters a better life and a priceless education. In these last four years without you, I accomplished a lot. I failed a lot too. But, I’m almost more proud of my failures. I joined a sorority and served on the leadership board for it. I studied abroad in Paris, and it was the best investment I ever made in myself! I ate a lot of bread, drank a lot of wine, and walked everywhere in the city. I went to India a few times — almost to look for you, but I found myself. I volunteered countless hours to the cancer community and Camp Kesem and also served on the leadership board for them. I had a minimum wage making job throughout college to pay for my coffee and shoe addiction. I didn’t start off college with the best GPA, but I only improved and even made it on the dean’s honor list a few times. I had some internships in the finance industry and now I’m officially entering as an analyst at BlackRock!!! I met my goal of getting a competitive and intelligent job after college six months before graduating! I did a lot. I missed you a lot. I still miss you a lot. I cried a lot. I laughed a lot. I loved a lot. I hated a lot. I fell down. I made mistakes. I got back up. I fell some more. I grew and I did it. I thought I couldn’t do it without you. All the decisions I had to make, all the struggles I had to overcome, all the boys I had to let go of… I wanted to call you so badly. I wanted to ask you your opinion on what classes I should take. I wanted you to help me with my job applications and prepare me for the rigorous interviews. I wanted you to meet my boyfriends. I wanted to cry to you about the boys that broke my heart. I wanted you to see me go off to college. I wanted you to see me graduate. But, I still did it. I did it, Dad and I hope I’m making you proud.

Endless love,

Your Lulu

Congrats to all the 2017 graduates!

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My [Unbiological] Sisterhood

What is Pi Beta Phi?

Pi Beta Phi is a women’s fraternity that holds 6 core values (integrity, lifelong commitment, honor and respect, personal and intellectual growth, philanthropic service, and sincere friendship) and aims to promote friendship, develop women of intellect and integrity, cultivate leadership, and promote social responsibility. 

In the beginning of my sophomore year of college, I went through recruitment for Greek life, and received an invitation to join Pi Beta Phi. 

So I only didn’t just join Pi Beta Phi because I wanted support for my cancer story I was struggling to cope with, but also support for normal college experiences that I didn’t get my freshmen year, because I honestly wasn’t mentally ready to go back to school. I didn’t know how to talk to people about, well, anything a part from cancer. I also didn’t know how to answer questions like, ‘how was your summer?’. None of those surface level conversations made any sense to me.

Sophomore year, I went into college with an open mind and positive attitude. Ever since freshmen year, I knew I wanted to be a part of a sorority. So, my sophomore year (when I was more mentally ready) I rushed Pi Beta Phi, the same sorority my sister was apart of during her college experience.

I was in complete shock when I saw true sisterhood traits in all of the members immediately after receiving a bid. When I posted “The Cancer Story” on my blog, the article immediately blew up. Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting a lot of support from my sorority sisters since I had just joined, but oh, was I very wrong. I immediately saw my fellow sisters sharing it on social media, commenting on the post, and more. And the support from this new chapter of my life felt so awesome. Later in the year, I was chosen to speak at Relay for Life. Once again I wasn’t expecting much of a turnout from them, but I was wrong. I looked into the crowd and saw so many beautiful and familiar faces from Pi Beta Phi. I then realized I only didn’t join just to make friends and have a better social life at school, but also gained an amazing sisterhood.

Later in the year, I went to a national conference for Pi Beta Phi where the politics and business of this organization was discussed and taught. I shared my story at one of the leadership workshops, which happened to be about resiliency and bouncing back from adversity. After I voiced my opinion and story, I saw applauding hands and teared eyes. I then understood that I don’t only have a sisterhood I can always rely on at my school, but also nation wide.

I will admit that with other organizations I am apart of, it is sometimes easier to connect to people on a much deeper level immediately, but in my sorority there are people who have been affected by cancer and have faced different types of adversity, and it’s always so awesome to share stories and inspire one another. Moreover, it’s a heart-warming feeling knowing that I have been an inspiration to those who have never been affected, and hopefully never will be. I’m so glad I joined this amazing sisterhood, and I can’t wait for our chapter to grow this upcoming Fall!

Reconnecting with My Dad’s Past… In France!

Because going to France means so much to my personal life and my childhood, it was my goal to meet my dad’s really good friend from back in the day. In all my recent travels, I like to connect it back to my dad somehow because it helps me get closure with my tragic loss.

Dinner with my dad's friend colleague/mentor/friend

I reached out to someone who was a mentor, friend, and colleague to my dad — someone who had such a big impact on my dad’s life that I will ever forget. It was so fun to reminisce knowing my dad was smiling from up above. It is a night that I will never forget and that I am so thankful for! I love being reminded of who my dad was and what his personality was like, because often times cancer fogs that image. The reconnection made me love my Paris trip even more!

The Cancer Story

Disclaimer: I debated with myself for a long time whether I should publish this or not because I originally wrote this for a college assignment. Please keep in mind there is so so so much more to my story and remember that I am still going through my cancer story and still grieving. There are some things I still can’t talk/write about and not sure if I ever will be able to. I also highly suggest not reading this if your parent is currently battling cancer. 

I watched it. I watched him die every single day. I watched him lie in his hospital bed helplessly. I watched him talk to the Hospice workers about moving back home. I watched the Hospice workers explain the point of a “Do Not Resuscitate Form” and I watched my mom sign it. I watched him suffer to say just one word every so often. I watched him become skinnier than me, his underweight daughter. I watched him try with much struggle and determination to take a sip of Coke. I watched him agonize to eat half a spoon of yogurt. I watched him take his last breath. I watched my mom scream his name during the last minutes of his life. I watched my uncle give him CPR. I watched the nurse take his pulse, and just shake her head. I watched my dad die.

I watched strangers bring flowers into my home. I watched family come together for the first time in my life. I watched a real life experience.

Two years before this life-changing occurrence, my dad was diagnosed with the “c word”, or to what most people call it – cancer. I was 16 years old at the time; I was worrying about girls gossiping about my outfits and hairstyle, boy crushes, and of course, studying for the SAT. In a moment, I went from a daughter to a caretaker. In May of 2011 I started to sense something was wrong – I just didn’t know what. I would overhear my mom cry every night; my sister unexpectedly flew back from the East Coast for the whole summer; and I found multiple blood test forms signed ‘R. C. Agarwal’ at the bottom. My dad was 51 at the time, so I thought he was going through some extra check ups, since he was now ‘over the hill’. On a Sunday afternoon my mom came upstairs to my room and said, “Please come downstairs when you’re done with your homework. Dad wants to tell you something.” I immediately put my pencil down and slowly walked down the stairs with my heart beating like a woodpecker pecking at a fresh piece of wood. At that moment, I knew something more somber was going on. My dad sat my sister and I down and told us he had a tumor. He proceeded to explain that he didn’t know the details about it and he didn’t know if it’s cancerous. He did make a promise to the three of us – he promised that he would be okay. The tumor turned out to be fourth stage colorectal cancer.

At first, the cancer was responding perfectly to the chemotherapy. The doctors even said they might have misdiagnosed my dad! However, the tables turned in October of my senior year; while I was focusing on college applications and all of the exciting senior festivities, my ‘healthy’ parent became sick and my sick parent was worsening day by day. As I was leaving for my senior day of spirit week, I overheard my mom crying to my dad. Then, I heard the word surgery. My first instinct was that my dad needed a surgery. I ran to my dad crying and asked what all of this was about. It turned out that it was my mom who needed a surgery as soon as possible. She ended up having a long and complicated surgery because of pre-ovarian cancer and ovarian cysts. I vividly remember my dad and I waiting outside her room with an outrageous amount of chocolate and a bouquet of red roses. She spent the night in the hospital and came home the next evening. Later that week, my dad’s chemotherapy dosage became much more hazardous and life threatening.

During this time in my life, my responsibilities amplified. I was cooking, cleaning, taking care of both of my parents, and of course being a student. One day while I was cooking, I was struggling to open a jar of olives. I couldn’t open it, and if you were to ever see my scrawny arms you would know that I couldn’t even open a water bottle without some struggle. I looked at my mom, and all she did was shake her head, left and right. Then, I looked at my dad who was recovering from his last chemotherapy session and he tried, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to open it. I tried opening the jar again and failed. I put it back in the fridge and continued cooking for us without the olives.

After the jar episode, I noticed my dad’s body starting to diminish. He was losing more weight than ever. One Tuesday afternoon I came home from school and immediately went upstairs to put my stuff down and change into comfortable clothes. I heard my dad yelling my name. I hustled downstairs anxiously to see if he was doing okay. I came downstairs to find an IV in his port and him holding this box with a little screen. I just stared in shock. The chemotherapy was currently running through his blood streams. I had never seen such a thing.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Oh, this is just some extra medicine. I have to keep it in for 2 days. Don’t worry; it’s not a big deal. I need your help. I need you to take my shirt off and fix the IV needle and then put a different shirt on and help me lay down.”

I was never so scared in my life. I was scared to touch him. I was scared that I would mess something up. And, I was scared that this was a sign of the cancer getting worse.

Every month his chemotherapy intensified, causing his side effects to worsen. On April 15th, 2013 my dad fell asleep downstairs on the couch. Around midnight, I heard excruciating yelling. He was crying, “I am in so much pain. Help me. Help me.” My mom and I had no idea what to do, so we carried him to the guest room bed and made sure he was comfortable enough to get some sleep for his chemotherapy the day after.

On April 16th, my parent’s 24th wedding anniversary, I texted my mom during my statistics class and said, “How’s dad’s chemotherapy going? Need me to pick up anything after school?” She replied, “He didn’t have chemotherapy. We’re at the hospital.” I said, “What’s going on? Is everything okay? Should I come after school?” She replied, “No, you can come tomorrow.”

At that point, I knew it was serious. It was pretty normal for my dad to be in the hospital, but no matter what chemotherapy session or procedure, he refused to spend the night in the hospital. Right after school, I drove down to the Good Samaritan Hospital in San Jose and found my way to room 512. One of our family friends, who happened to be a doctor at the hospital, walked me down the hallway to get ice cream. College decisions were due in about two weeks, so she proceeded to ask me where I wanted to go for college and I explained to her that I wanted to stay close to home because of my dad’s health. She said, “Go where you want to go because your dad won’t see you go to college. Samira, your father is dying.”

The “c word” made me understand life in a whole new way. The tragic event led me to realize how much my dad sacrificed for his family. Cancer taught me what sick patients, no matter the disease or disorder, go through. It made me empathize with sick people across the globe. Being a caretaker at 16 years old forced me to make decisions, think, and act like a 36 year old. I matured to a degree that many adults have yet to reach. I watched my best friend take his last breath, but I also changed into a human who only wants to benefit society, specifically teenagers coping with a cancerous parent. The heartbreaking loss inspired me to start a blog (www.copingwithcancer.org) to touch peoples’ hearts. I take full pride in the person I am today, and I have no one but my supportive mom and late, selfless dad to thank for that. Whether my dad is physically with me or not, I am still motivated to follow my dreams and ambitions because I know he will always be in my heart.

Miss you more each day.

Miss you more each day.

The Holidays With One Less Parent

Happy Holidays!!! This time of year is my absolute favorite! I hope everyone is enjoying their time with family and friends. This blog post is geared towards those who have lost a parent and are having a hard time enjoying this holiday season. (I highly suggest not reading this post if your parent is battling cancer at the moment.)

So, last Christmas I was actually out of the country for my father’s funeral services making this Christmas our first without him. My mom and I also moved houses about a year ago (more information about this move will be in another blog post), so this Christmas is also our first one in this house. It’s so weird to celebrate my favorite holiday without my dad and in a new house that has yet to feel like ‘home’ to me.

 

The holidays without your parent are incredibly hard. I know the situation is atrocious — everyone around you is jolly and loving this holiday season and all you can think about is how much you miss your deceased parent. I know it’s hard to put something so traumatic behind you during a time when you’re ‘supposed’ to be cheerful, but I suggest you try your best to. You deserve happiness and you deserve to enjoy this holiday season with the rest of your family. I also highly recommend to start a new tradition in honor of your parent. For example, this year onwards I will be going to local hospitals to drop off some goodies for the hospital staff and some patients because to me Christmas is actually about giving, rather than receiving materialistic gifts. My other tradition that I have already started is making little cancer ribbon ornaments with my dad’s initials painted on the side of them! I made a few for our tree and a few for my extended families’ trees.

The traumatizing event of losing your parent never gets easier to cope with, especially during the holiday season, but still try to enjoy it and treasure the time with the rest of your family. Go ahead and start a new tradition in honor of your parent! Merry Christmas!

I am Thankful for My Father Figures

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!! This is my favorite time of the year — everyone sharing why they are thankful, the Christmas music in the stores, the smell of gingerbread cookies in my mother’s kitchen, and the generous, giving vibes floating around.

Here are a few of my father figures (and cousin) who have guided me through all my confused moments when I was in need of a dad.

Here are a few of my father figures (and cousin) who have guided me through all my confused moments when I was in need of a dad.

I’m so thankful for everything in my life, but I wanted to specifically thank all of my father figures and all of those who have been there for me through the thick and thin. I’m always looking for some advice and guidance, because ever since I lost my dad to cancer I have felt so lost. I always think, “am I doing this right?”

The great thing is that my dad died knowing I was being left in amazing hands to take care of me. He made sure that I had multiple father figures to take care of me, and give me some helpful daddy-advice whenever I was in a pickle.

It’s hard being in college without a dad because it feels like every single decision you make will determine your future. I am always so confused if I am involved in the right things, and if I’m taking the right classes, and if I’m even majoring in the major that’s for me. Thankfully I have amazing father figures to guide me through all my confused moments of life and will continue to guide me when I am in need of a daddy.

 

My Biggest Fear

We all have fears in life — spiders, sharks, creepy men, etc. My biggest fear changed after I lost my dad to cancer when I was 18 years old. I wish I could say my biggest fear is something like spiders, but now my biggest fear is forgetting my dad.

My biggest fear is forgetting his voice. And his laugh. And his big smile. And the way he would say my name. And the way he used to play with our dog, Duke. And the way he used to say, “Good night, I love you” every single night, no matter how tired he was or no matter how late it got. And his generous and funny personality. And his weird cravings for the most random flavors of ice cream.

I now try to do everything I can in my power so that my fear doesn’t become a reality. I have an album saved on my computer of pictures of my dad. And, I often times look at these pictures. I think about my favorite memories with him and I always proceed by writing it down in a small journal. I also wrote down his favorite color, ice cream, type of car, and everything else I still remember. It’s now my Daddy Journal. I also have a few videos and recordings of his voice. These videos and recordings are my best friend when I am having a “Daddy Day”. A Daddy Day happens occasionally and it’s perfectly normal. It’s one of those days where I just can’t stop thinking about him and I miss him a little extra.

 

For those who have also lost a parent (or any family member) to cancer (or any disease):

If you also fear that you might forget the little details and big memories of your lost parent, then I highly suggest writing everything down and recording what you can. Although sometimes it might be heartbreaking to write these details down, it is one of the most comforting things to have when you look back at it on one of those Mommy or Daddy Days. Your parent would only want you to remember them in the most positive and delightful way, and not in a cancerous way.

Words

Talk in everlasting words
And dedicate them all to me
And I will give you all my life
I’m here if you should call to me

You think that I don’t even mean
A single word I say

It’s only words, and words are all I have
To take your heart away

These lyrics are part of “Words” by the Bee Gees. “Words” was one of the first songs my dad taught me to play on the guitar probably about 8 years ago. It is also the last song he ever played, which was just two days before he was admitted to the hospital.

These few lyrics mean the world to me. “Talk in everlasting words and dedicate them all to me” The reason I blog, the reason I get up every morning, the reason I try my hardest in school is for my dad. I dedicate my world to him. “You think that I don’t even mean a single word I say. It’s only words, and words are all I have to take your heart away.” Words is what I use. It’s what I use to help people cope with cancer and it’s all I have.

Words are all I have to show the world that I would do anything to help those coping with cancer and words are all I have to tell the universe how much I really do love and miss my dad.

Happy Birthday, Mommy

I wanted to give a special birthday shout out to my beautiful and strong mother today! So, happy birthday to the woman who bent over back to take care of my dad during the lowest points of his life, who did everything in the world to keep this family intact and strong, and who has motivated me to follow my dreams and ambitions even without my dad in my life anymore. You are the strongest woman I know and I hope to be at least half the person you are today when I’m a mother. I love you so much!

Thank you for being the best mommy AND daddy!

My Trip Part Two: I had Realizations

In my last article, I wrote about my month long trip to India where I got out of my comfort zone, started to receive closure with my dad’s death, and coped with my negative feelings. After this month long trip, I have had a lot of realizations about my dad, my life, and cancer in general.

I realized:

  • that my dad had two lives- one in India and one in America
  • the extent of my dad’s pain and suffering for the two years he was sick
  • his sacrifices for his family (my mom, my sister, and myself)
  • his worries about my mom, my sister, and myself during his final days

Overall, I gained more insight in my dad’s life. The month I spent abroad and the realizations I made about my dad and my life have been life changing. Once again, I am so thankful for the opportunity that was given to me and I cannot wait for the next time to leave my comfort zone.

Here is a picture of me in a beautiful garden in India. This picture speaks for itself.

Here is a picture of me in a beautiful garden in India. This picture speaks for itself.

My Trip Part One: I Got Out of My Comfort Zone

About seven-ish months after my dad passed away, I made a week long trip with my mom and my sister half way across the world to India where most of my father’s family resides. This trip was extremely emotional and moving, but I did not seem to get closure on my father’s death whatsoever. I mainly went to show my face and pay my respect to my dad’s parents.

I made the decision to go back to India by myself this past month. I made the decision to get out of my comfort zone, to receive closure with the cancerous tragedy, and also to finally deal with my negative feelings. One of the hardest parts was the fact that I didn’t have my mom and sister to walk me through this. Thankfully, I was staying with family members during my whole trip. Although I was staying with family, I still didn’t feel so comfortable at first. By the end of my trip, everything in India felt like home.

I didn’t have many expectations going into the trip; I wasn’t sure if I would actually get the closure I wanted. But, I got out of my comfort zone, went to a different country alone, and grew immensely as a person.

Everyday I did something new and everyday I learned something new. I had a new realization about my dad, my life, and cancer in general. By the end of my trip, I started to accept my dad’s death. I started to come to terms with the tragedy that occurred in my life. I analyzed many aspects during my trip. I thought about which friends were really there for me, I thought about how my grades in school suffered, and I thought about what my dad was going through. I always knew that he was in pain and he was scared of the future, but it was only when some of his friends started telling me the things he told them during his sick days that I really started to put myself in his shoes. The thoughts of my dad’s suffering brought me back a few steps, but the trip as a whole resulted in me taking giant leaps on this grieving process.

This experience has taught me the best way to grow as an individual is to leave your comfort zone. I am so beyond thankful I had the experience to travel and grow as a person while grieving in a healthy way.

Here is a picture of me with my dad's mother. We had unforgettable heart-to-hearts about my dad. She also lost her dad at a young age, and then her son at an old age. I have a ridiculous amount of respect for her and I am so thankful I got to bond with her for the first time in my life.

Here is a picture of me with my dad’s mother. We had unforgettable heart-to-hearts about my dad. She also lost her dad at a young age, and then her son at an old age. I have a ridiculous amount of respect for her and I am so thankful I got to bond with her for the first time in my life.

Father’s Day

In honor of Father’s Day, my sister wrote a guest blog piece! Devika teaches American history and enjoys writing Yelp food reviews, playing water polo, and exploring new cities.  

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Today will be the second year that my sister and I won’t be celebrating Father’s Day the way we used to – trying to figure out the surprise gifts, who would take him golfing and what dinner plans would be. Unlike birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays, Father’s Day is the day where everyone at the same time celebrates their father. I’ve been walking around shops where I see all the Father’s Day gifts and goodies out and I see my friends posting pictures of them and their dads. My heart aches when I feel that I’m no longer a part of that club.

There are moments where I feel so jealous that I won’t have my father to see when I go home or even in the future at my wedding or when I have children, but then I remember him in his true form – a man of love, truth, grit, and incredible generosity. Like my sister has said so many times, he was someone who gave and gave, left a legacy where he went, and influenced those around him. When I lost him, I had three or four times as many father figures step into my life. I had friends and family reach out and wish me Happy Father’s Day so that together, we could celebrate my dad.

 In just a year, I’ve learned that grief comes and goes as it pleases but joy is always there; it’s a self-existing emotion that often hides itself in the cloud of grief but will come out to shine when summoned. Be the sun that brightens your day; find happiness in the thoughts that count. Thank you to my friends and family that texted and called; you’ve made my Father’s Day the warmest and most joyful that it could possibly be.

 Today, I’ll be calling not only my mother, but also all my pseudo-fathers. Share your joy with others and reach out to those around you. A kind note, text, e-mail, call, even Facebook comment goes a long way. Know that Father’s Day isn’t just to celebrate dads, but really those who’ve positively influenced and guided you.

 Of course, I won’t end this post without saying Happy Father’s Day to my dad – Rajiv Agarwal – whose memories are like stars in the sky, there in beautiful, abstract space, shining bright, and making me smile. 

I Cannot Bear Not to Help Cancer Patients

This past weekend, I went to the Farmer’s Market and I saw a booth for children fighting cancer. They had a great fundraiser going on. The organization was selling little bears to stitch and decorate. The donator had the choice of giving it to a child with cancer or they could pay a few extra dollars and keep the bear. The second option was more for the little kids who participated, but still all of the profits went to the cancerous children so it was a win-win situation!

Every time I see a cancer fundraiser, I cannot bear (pun intended) to not participate in it. I remember when my dad was in the hospital, some volunteers gifted him a small pillow they stitched. He actually used it every single day when he was in the hospital and when he was on Hospice. Eventually, we had an inside joke about it and now every time I think about it, I smile. Cancer patients honestly adore and appreciate the little crafts volunteers do. A small piece of fabric, some stuffing, a thread, a needle, and your time can go a very long way. I know that this bear will make a child’s heart very happy!

Here are some pictures from the activity.

The pieces of fabric my friend and I used to sew the bear and decorate it.

The pieces of fabric my friend and I used to sew the bear and decorate it.

Writing a message for the cancer patient.

Writing a message for the cancer patient.

Writing a message for the cancer patient.

Writing a message for the cancer patient.

Drawing the face on the bear.

Drawing the face on the bear.

Meet Hope!
The front of the bear.

The front of the bear.

On the back of the bear, I wrote a message for the child. I wrote, “This is Hope. She will help you! You are so beautiful and strong. You will make a strong recovery. The world is supporting you.”

The back of the bear.

The back of the bear.

One Year Ago I Lost My Best Friend

I never actually thought this day would come. I was in such denial. I walked through the hospital doors and found  my dad’s room. The doctors told me what was going on. I watched everyone cry.  I took my dad home from the hospital to Hospice. I carried his bags to the car. I helped him from the wheelchair to the car. I watched the nurses cry when he left. I saw the pain in my dad’s face. I saw my dad on Hospice. I saw the Hospice workers explain the “Do Not Resuscitate Form” to my mom. I watched my mom sign it. I watched the nurse take my dad’s pulse for the last time, look at me and shake her head. I was there through it all, but I still never thought the day I would lose my best friend would actually come.

I watched it. I watched my dad die everyday. But one day, it actually happened. I think at first I was in complete shock. At 18 years old, I still didn’t understand what was going on in my life. I kept asking myself why was this happening to me. Why did I have to lose my dad- my best friend?

 

 

Relay for Life 2014

This past weekend, I was able to participate in Relay for Life at the university I am attending. Relay for Life is a 24-hour cancer walk held by American Cancer Society. Their goal is to fight back against cancer, celebrate those who have survived, and remember those who have lost their life to the awful disease while fundraising thousands of dollars.

Later on in the event, there is a ceremony called Luminaria. Luminaria is a time to remember and honor those who have passed away. The Luminaria ceremony was emotionally difficult for me. It was scary and weird to hear my dad’s name and see my dad’s picture during the ceremony. In the past years I have participated in Relay for Life, I never thought I would walk during the Luminaria lap in honor of my father.

I am so grateful my friends were right there next to me. They held me as we walked the Luminaria lap. It was so reassuring to know that I have a support system who empathizes with me, rather than sympathizes for me. Although it was a moment of deep mourning for my dad, I felt beyond thankful for those surrounding me and felt my heart fill with joy.

Relay for Life was such an amazing experience. I have mentioned this before, but just to reiterate, it is helpful to give back to the community. It’s a great way to cope with cancer. At events like this, you can share your story without being judged and have someone listen that knows what you have been through or are going through. I love volunteering through American Cancer Society (and the other organizations I am apart of). And to be completely honest, volunteering and helping people cope with cancer are some of the few things that get me through each day while grieving over my father. It brings a smile to my face knowing that I am changing someone’s life in one way or another.

Blogger and her Momma!

Blogger and her Momma!

Luminaria Bag!

Luminaria Bag!

Team Co-Captains of "We Cancervive"

Team Co-Captains of “We Cancervive”

Team Captains with President of Colleges Against Cancer

Team Captains with President of Colleges Against Cancer

Testicular Cancer Awareness Month

April is Testicular Cancer Awareness Month! Testicular Cancer occurs in a man’s testicles.

Here are a few facts about Testicular Cancer to raise awareness:

  • Testicular Cancer is found in men usually between 15 and 35 years of age
  • 1 in 250 males will be diagnosed with Testicular Cancer
  • Risk factors for Testicular Cancer include: family history, undescended testicles, and kidney and penile abnormalities
  • Testicular Cancer can be tested through biopsies, ultrasounds, and blood tests
  • Some symptoms that should not be ignored include: a testicle with a lump, a swollen testicle, pain in a testicle or the scrotum, enlargement of testicle, heavy feeling in the scrotum, and aches in the lower abdomen, back, or groin area
  • Radiation, chemotherapy, and surgery can treat Testicular Cancer

Please share this post with friends and family because with more people educated on cancer, less people will be diagnosed! Stay positive!

One Year Ago I Found Out My Dad Was Going to Die

April 16, 2013. My world started falling apart. I walked into the Good Samaritan Hospital and felt my heart drop. I knew this was not just the regular doctor visit. I found my way around the hospital and came up to my dad’s room. When I walked in he yelled, ‘Lulu Lulu!’ (This nickname will be explained in another blog post.) I was so happy to see him and he was so happy to see me.

He was not doing well. He was very sick at this point. I knew something was wrong, but I wouldn’t admit it to myself.

Our family friend who works in that hospital came in my dad’s room. She walked me down the hall to get me some ice cream (I always see kids get unlimited ice cream at hospitals, so I simply asked!). We walked down the hall into the kitchen on the oncology floor. College decisions were due in two weeks, so we started talking about my options. At this point, I honestly didn’t give it much thought because my dad was getting more sick by the day. She asked me what college I wanted to go and what college my parents wanted me to go to. I answered with the college I wanted to go to and explained to her how I should go where my parents want me to. The college my parents wanted me to go to was really close to home and had a great reputation. I told her that I want to be close to home especially because of my dad’s health. She said, “Go where you want to go to college because your dad won’t see you go to college. Samira, your father is dying.”

I cried in her shoulders for a few minutes, wiped my tears, got myself ice cream and got my dad ice cream. I walked down the hall with a fake smile on my face and came into my dad’s hospital room excited to eat ice cream with him. Only later did I realize that this was going to be the last time I ate ice cream with him.

Throughout the day, he never said anything about him dying. I heard my mom crying on the phone outside his room to multiple people but she never really told me anything either because she was too busy dealing with phone calls and doctors, and of course my father’s needs. One of our really good family friend took me to the library down the hall a few hours later. She sat me down and explained to me that this was real. She said that this is it. She said explained to me that the chemotherapy stopped working and there is nothing else the doctors could do. I asked her a few questions and she answered. We just sat there in silence for sometime. I cried for sometime. I walked back to the hospital room to find more of my family friends. Some of our other very good family friends sat in the car while I drove to her house to spend the night with her daughters, whom I consider my sisters.

I could barely drive because I was crying so hard. My head was pounding. I couldn’t think straight. I felt like throwing up. I stopped by at my house to feed my dog and pick up my stuff to spend the night at their house. My mom was living in the hospital with my dad and my sister was in the East Coast at this point.

I came to my family friend’s house and walked  into her room. We looked at each other and neither of us said a single world. I just started howling. I cried and I cried. I tried to throw up. Nothing came out because I didn’t eat anything the whole day. I drank some water and took some Advil. I fell asleep crying in my family friends arms.

 

Happy Birthday, Daddy

My dad was truly an amazing person. He was the life of every party, the captain of every team, the sunshine on a cloudy day, the tickle monster when in a grumpy mood. He made every guest and every relative feel so at home in his house. He was the most generous and selfless man I had ever met in my life. My dad never forgot anyone’s birthday or anniversary. He was a best friend to many people and always helping others. He never showed his pain while going through chemotherapy. He was always smiling, whether it was during the economic recession or the day he was admitted to the hospital he was making some sort of joke. He made his last joke within the last hour of his life. His last words were thank you.

So, thank you dad. Thank you for teaching me everything important in life. Whenever I would fail a test, you would actually laugh at me and say, “Let’s make a bet on you failing the next one.” Thank you for showing the importance of hope and positivity. Thank you for hiding your pain during the last month of your life to make it easier for your friends and family. Thank you for the being such a caring husband, brother, and son. Thank you for being the greatest dad any little girl could ever ask for.  Thank you for being my hero. Thank you for leaving your legacy, and I promise I will live by it now. And, Happy Birthday.

Happy birthday to the man who inspired this blog!

Happy birthday to the man who inspired this blog!

Colon Cancer & Colorectal Cancer Awareness Month

March is Colon/Colorectal Cancer awareness month! Colon Cancer is cancer in the colon and Colorectal Cancer is cancer in the colon as well as the rectum.

Here are a few facts about Colon/Colorectal Cancer to raise awareness:

  • Colon/Colorectal cancer is the third most diagnosed cancer in America
  • When it comes to cancer deaths, Colon/Colorectal cancer takes second place in America
  • 90% of Colon/Colorectal cancer patients are 50 years old or older
  • Colon/Colorectal cancer has a lot to do with family history- if your parent, sibling, child, etc. have had colon cancer, your risk increases by two to three times more
  • Prevent Colon/Colorectal Cancer with a healthy diet and regular check ups to the doctor, including a colonoscopy at the age 50 years
  • Some symptoms of Colon/Colorectal Cancer that should not be ignored include: changes in bowel movement, blood in stool, abdominal discomfort/pain/cramps, bloating, fatigue, loss of appetite, weight loss
  • Colon/Colorectal cancer can be diagnosed with a Colonoscopy or through CT scans
  • Colon/Colorectal cancer can be treated through chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery

About three years ago my father was diagnosed with Colorectal Cancer. Now that I see what cancer really does to a patient and to a family, I want to spread the knowledge and share with other the importance of going to the doctors when you feel sick. I would also like to emphasize to get a colonoscopy at age 50 with your yearly check up! This is so very important. Please do share this post, so that others can be educated on different types of cancers. Together, we can fight against cancer.