It was the summer before my freshman year of college. I was at my internship when I got the 911 page from my mom and a message saying, "Come home immediately after work."
A bit anxious, I packed up my things and left for the day beating both my folks home. When they walked in the door my mom began to speak but fell into tears. It was then that my dad proceeded to tell me he had cancer. I smirked and gave a half smile of disbelief all too common with that type of incredulous news while my heart grew cold.
My entire life I've shown more emotion than most, at that moment I had none. For three days, I felt nothing and then I took a drive. After a number of tears and selfish "Why me's?" I finally figured it out. It wasn't about God taking my dad away from me, it wasn't even about him possibly losing his life. It was about having had a father in the first place and a wonderful life. It was then that I realized that when we lose something we all too often forget that we were already given that something to lose.
Weeks passed and under the knife he went. Nine months later I brought him home my first college report card and in one month he will watch me graduate summa cum laude. I'm fortunate that he has been and will be there for these events, but I'm even more fortunate to have found appreciation for every other moment we've shared.
