Dancing Thru Life

Saturday night, Shea and I watched a silly 2018 movie titled, The Week Of, starting Adam Sandler and Chris Rock. (There were some unexpected scenes that required that I cover Shea’s tired eyes).

The premise of the film is a Long Island working class father, played by Sander, trying to provide the perfect wedding for his oldest daughter-and everything goes wrong.  Rock, who does not have the same strong relationship with his son and family, is a surgeon and can offer a more exquisite wedding but Sandler refuses.

Near the end of the film, Sandler’s character and his daughter have the customary “Father-Daughter Dance.” Thankfully, Shea didn’t see the stream of tears rolling down my face as they danced to Billy Joel’s Lullaby (Goodnight, My Angel).

Truth be told, this scene would have brought me to tears before I knew of my diagnosis, but given what is, I couldn’t help but wonder if I will ever have that opportunity (if they choose to get married).

The film ended and we went to our respective beds, but I did not sleep. I reflected on this new possibility, and as you will soon see, my mind and heart went to many places. I would like to share them with you here, praying it reminds you to cherish what is, and to trust even more in our God who is love:

No Dance is Guaranteed

It is almost cliché to write it, but nothing is guaranteed- not what could be, should be, or will be, and certainly not what is (more on this soon). We know of plenty of random accidents or being in the wrong place at the wrong time that changes life in a flash.

The difference with an advanced stage cancer, or any serious disease, is that you have the mental burden of imagining life going on without you. Honestly, it is a difficult conceptual place to be, and I have learned relatively quickly to go there if I need to, but to not stay there as it will only take away from these precious days.

I have spent the last 5 years writing books, reflections, and offering talks centered around the joys of fatherhood. In my book, Batter Up: Answering the Call of Faith & Fatherhood, I acknowledge that this book tells the story of the early chapters of fatherhood, almost assuming there will be more chapters to write.

It is almost cruel to consider that this may not be true.

Of course, I will fight with every will of my being to live and love, but I also know the odds that I am trying to defy. Every night, as I pray for a miracle and for the suffering and the healers, I also pray for the scientists and researchers who work tirelessly that they will find a cure for this generation, even against the backdrop of our own country’s recent Federal cuts of cancer research.

Thankfully, my prayer inevitably returns to the present, filled with gratitude for what is. It is a gift of this disease, forcing the current moment to be appreciated for all its preciousness like never before.

I Hope you Dance

I can’t help but think of the older generations, those who can walk their daughter down the aisle, hold their grandchild, and grow old with their soulmate.

Do they realize how blessed they are?

Do they realize the gifts before them, or do they allow the noise to drown out the blessings. How many people fight with family over nonsense (e.g. money) and how many get caught up in the earthly matters that protect the ego and a false sense of security. I know of too many family members and friends who no longer talk to loved ones, and how they will wait to someone dies to make amends (if they still can).

If you are reading this, and you are missing out on the blessings that were always assumed yet never guaranteed, do whatever is necessary to find peace and to reunite in love. So many never get the chance for these moments and experiences. I hope you dance!

(Note: Sometimes, relationships sever out of protection of self/loved ones. In these cases, perhaps a reunion is not best, but forgiveness always is).

Perspective Matters

While my future is less secure than it once was, it does not escape me that there are many 20-somethings who will never, like I did, marry their best friend, hold their new child, teach them to pray, take their kid to the first day of school, or watch a ballgame for their favorite team.

Cancer and other diseases and accidents does not discriminate, and many would love for the life I have and will never see it fulfilled.

I spent my college years volunteering at a children’s hospital. Many of those children never saw high school and they couldn’t even dream of the life I experienced. Their life, although impactful, was cut well short of what should have been.

I also consider those in war-torn parts of the world and in marginalized communities, especially those mothers and fathers who cannot feed or protect their children. They seek only basic human rights for their kids, yet they instead constantly fear when the next bomb will fall, unjust arrest will occur, and the next act of violence will arrive.

How they would trade places with me and my family immediately. How I desperately wish and pray I and we could remedy their pain. This is why I am at the UN, advocating for those who deserve so much more.

More than a Dance

It really isn’t the wedding and that one 3-minute dance. It is everything else that produces these tears.

It is the potential of not being there to wipe away my family’s tears, or my absence being the cause of them. It is not being around to accompany and guide them in all that life brings as they journey from child to teen to adult.

For two decades, I accompanied other people’s children on college campuses, some with amazing fathers, others not so much. I always wondered what it would be like when my girls would walk a college campus, discern their future, and discovering their talents and potential impact on the world.

How I would love to see them grow into who God is calling them to be. I already sit in awe as I watch them grow before my eyes at the ages of (almost) 9 and 5.

Letting God Take the Lead

This all leads us to the spiritual act of surrender. Surrendering is another one of those gifts and curses of an advanced stage cancer diagnosis.

Surrendering requires a letting go and trusting God (yes, it sounds like another cliché). It doesn’t mean giving up, and it doesn’t even mean my anxiety completely fades away. Instead, it requires letting it be as so much of this is well beyond our control.

And if I am not here for that wedding dance, or any other moment where I could lend a shoulder, a hand, a prayer, or a laugh, I do trust that God will provide. There are so many, who now, and in the future, will love them as I do- although not completely the same but still as impactful and important.

Dancing Together

There are times I have questioned my career choices as most do not achieve great financial success as a writer, helper, and advocate. However, this summer has reminded me that the real fortune is the village that we built along the way.

We have a sea of people, good, salt-of-the-earth people, who walk with us, pray with us, love us- especially these two little girls.

I learned this summer just how rich and blessed we are, and there is no doubt that this will only continue.

In Closing

I pray that I will get that dance, and all those desired days before and after. I also know that God is with us, no matter how and when this story ends.

For now, I can rest in the blessings of the moment, trusting that as good as God has always been, God will continue to be, always turning mourning into dancing.