Three years ago on this day, I woke up to listen to my father take his last deep breath. At 7am his spirits passed on from this life to enter the next. It troubled me how his disease had taken the best out of him so quickly. I remembered seeing exactly how he felt when the doctor said he had nine months to live and how his heart changed when he met a man who fought off cancer for nine years.
His light-hearted personality said he was going to fight it off and the sparkle in his eyes was there.
The trouble with disease is sometimes the fight is unfair; his disease had a head start and his condition worsened and eventually he lost control of his motor reflexes making him collapse for no reason.
My father taught me a great lesson – the moment you tell yourself you can’t do something is the moment you have lost your race. I remember crying endlessly in the car ride back to the hospital when we found out that my dad’s cancer had spread to his brain, but no one had the heart to tell him.
I remember seeing my dad give up the moment he found out. And how he gave up on life, only to take his last breath two months later.
Today I woke up and prayed for him and joined the race against cancer even though I hate running. I decided to run five km anyway, even though I didn’t train.
I constantly wanted to give up but I decided not to, because unlike my father, I don’t have a disease that makes the battle hard for me. Stay strong, be grateful and challenge yourself.
