M.M.

He stares at the white ceiling, his eyes get heavier and heavier. The room acquires a sterile smell as though he is in a dentist office. The doctors diagnose him with prostate cancer, stage three. Stage three means that cancer has spread outside the prostate gland and to nearby organs. He is given fifteen months to live. Words stream to his head: doctors, pills, sadness, hopelessness, and faithlessness. All of those come with the guarantee of pain. So he did what everyone else does, the basic chemotherapy. He loses his hair, his ability to be the same person, and his image. Along with this, he tries to play off to his world that he is still trying to be his normal self. He slowly starts to lose his ability to walk. Starting with a cane, walker, wheelchair, and finishing with being bedridden. He loses his personal appearance, having paralysis in half of his face. He is now unrecognizable to his world. His image is now lost. To top it all off the worst is that his family and friends can see he is in excruciating pain. He has to see them be in pain because of him, and he just has to sit there and watch. 

His name is Mike. He was my father. For me this was no bad dream and no sad movie scene. It is my story.

My father struggled with stage three prostate cancer for seven years. I observed this as a helpless bystander everyday from the beginning of middle school to the end of junior year of high school. The passing of my father still affects me to this day. When he initially passed I didn’t want to go to school. I didn’t want to see my friends. It was a struggle to get up each day and remembering that it was real. Feeling suffocated by “I’m sorry for your loss” and “How are you doing.”I struggled to be happy with the constant reminder of his passing.  I had to nowhere to escape. Trying to distract myself with school when, in fact, that made it worse. I felt like I was an outsider having such a heavy weight on my shoulders. I just wanted to find something that would relieve the pain and bring me back to life. The hardest part of my dad's passing was making sense of his death. I was mad and sad at the same time that he was taken so soon. I was confused on what to do with my path once he passed. My mind was foggy with where I should go or what to do next. After watching my dad struggle every single day firsthand, the true meaning of life surfaced in my thoughts. 

Everyone has their own story, their own path that has shaped them and made them who they are today. Everyone has their own purpose for what their life is worth. But we are all here for a reason. I believe the purpose of life is to find your own understanding of what the meaning of life signifies to you, be it regarding intention, be in worth, and be in value. 

Life is about searching for the people that are worth suffering for every single day. To find the ones that were so hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget. To leave a piece of you in each person, so that when you are gone you still live on through them. I saw the way he made each of his friends feel special. He used his sense of humor to avoid what was dragging him down. He refused to let the pain engulf his relationships with the people he loved. To not be selfish or stubborn. To be grateful for the little things and appreciate the small moments you have until they are in the past. To have nonstop refusal to ever give up on life, and to never surrender until you reach the end. The people around him were breaking down when he had the emotional difficulty to be the most composed the whole time. He showed no pain, and the people around him had to learn to live life with compassion and heart. Others choose to spend their time worrying about trivial things that seem important in the moment, but I choose to focus on what is most vital in my life.

I carry the encompassing enormity of his death with me everyday. He left me with a dizziness as though I was walking through fog, having me believe I was lost. But now I’ve come to a clearing, and I have made purpose of my life by: Living Like Mike.

 What does it mean to Live Like Mike? LLM is my way of reminding myself to live fearless of both opportunity and love. Knowing that life can be taken away does not give a reason for people to shy away from getting attached or too involved, but rather a reason to embrace every chance to live and love wholeheartedly so that opportunities are not lost. Most of all, Mike would want us to live the very best life for him.

For others struggling with the same hardship I want you to know that you are not alone. I want you to know that is acceptable to not be ok. You should not be afraid to show that you are to speak out and express your emotions. I never felt as though I had to share this point of my life on social media. I never saw it as an outlet to express my negative feelings and emotions. In our generation, most people are focused on sharing the high points of their life on social media, resumes, and interviews. But what you can’t see on a phone screen or piece of paper is the heart and experiences that have shaped you into the person you are today.

Girls Who Handle It helped me to put all my emotions and words on paper. It inspired me to write a tribute for my father to be showcased to readers like you. This project has shown me that I am not alone in this journey of self discovery. Throughout our lives we are hesitant to be vulnerable. Many equate being vulnerable to being weak. When in reality, by not letting ourselves be vulnerable we can’t experience the joy and worth of life. It prevents us from being our truest selves and creates a false image. The strongest humans are those that can showcase their vulnerability and be a leader to others. This project helps girls just like me to speak up and display the hardships that have constructed us into bold and strong women.