My father passed away from cancer on July 13, 2016. 10 days before his death, the oncologist gave us a bleak diagnosis, telling my sister and brother to get his affairs in order because he could die at any time.
My entire family was dumbstruck. Here was a man who appeared to be strong and generally healthy. He was a youthful sixty-eight years old. A month before he died, he came to visit me in US. I had planned family vacation, and was thrilled and eagerly waiting for him and my mom. Nobody knew, including my father that he had cancer. We came to know about the presence of multiple tumors in his bladder when he complained of fatigue and weakness. My father was a strong and independent man. He had a long and impactful career in law and social work. He was an extremely successful man in both work and life. As the chief minister Nitish Kumar puts it…he was a self-made man. He never gave up. He was an inspiration to all the lawyers, who worked for him or legislatures, who was associated with him in one way or the other. He lost his parents when he was very young. Against all odds, he learned, endured life full of struggle and setbacks. But he had a relentless work ethic, loyalty, and absolute integrity in every bone of his body. He earned respect of everyone, and was known as one of the most renowned attorneys. He was loved and respected by all because he treated everyone equally.
But he despised feeling weak and depend on someone else for help. He didn’t realize that it was cancer-related fatigue. Sleep did not make it better: It was unpredictable. It affected every part of his life and it was so overwhelming that he finally realized that this was something serious and he needs to tell his wife and his kids.
He went back to India, his homeland, with a hope he would get back to his normal self. Never in my life or in my dreams, I had imagined I would never see him again after he went back.
Summoning every bit of optimism resident in my being, I refused to accept he would fall to cancer. Because I always knew my father to be a fighter. He had never lost any case, he never gave up, and he was always a winner. When doctor told my family that he had multiple tumors, I was still positive and thought that my father would be able to get through this. When doctor told my sister and my brother that he has tumors that are cancerous and his only chance of survival is chemotherapy, I still had hoped that he would fight this. Neither did my father lost hope…he never gave up.
My family and I watched the vitality of a man we held so dear steadily drain away. Adding to the horror of the situation were the heavy doses of chemotherapy my father underwent at the recommendation of his physicians, who claimed it would alleviate his suffering.
Over the next few days my family watched with growing frustration as he sank. All my instincts as a daughter was to save him by any means.
My brother met the most able doctors in India, consulted them, asked for their advice. I did extensive research, tried to contact best of the best cancer specialists in US, stayed up all nights to research and learn about the other alternative therapies, learning about Budwig Diet protocol, a proven formula for regenerating cells and fighting cancer.
My brother and sister went through the Budwig Diet protocol workshop with a hope they can save our father.
I knew the power of a healthy diet, exercise, and other holistic modalities in extending the longevity of cancer patients. My brother and I bought plenty of potent anti-cancer food, tea, oil and supplement. I learned about Immunotherapy treatment that cure cancer. I reached out to the most able doctors in Immunotherapy in US. Each member (my mother, brother, sisters, sister in laws, brother in laws) of my family had just one mission now “Save the man we loved the most at any cost”
We encouraged our father to modify his diet, follow a juicing regimen and Budwig protocol. Before he could get benefited by any of this, he was succumbed to chemotherapy. My brother called to tell me that my father was in Intensive Care Unit.
When the phone call came, I was thousands of miles away from him. My mind went back to my childhood.
Imagine being a little child in a dark room. Every small noise evokes images of vicious monsters lurking in the night. They draw nearer.
You cry out, “Papa!” And cry out once more. Then your hero comes to the rescue.
Your father shuffles in half-asleep, picks you up, and pats you to sleep. All terrors dispelled, you feel invincible in your father’s arms. That’s one of my earliest memories.
That feeling of utter safety and joy in my father’s arms was deeply imprinted in me. I said to my husband, “I don’t want to lose him!” He wasn’t very old, my mother had just retired, and they intended to travel the world together, visit their kids, and grand kids.
I still hoped he would get through this because my father was a fighter. He never gave up.
I boarded the flight to see my father. He was lying in the Intensive Care Unit, with a ventilator next to him, several tubes down his throat and many IV’s connected to him along with a port in his chest to receive medications. My heart cried out to see the tube inside his mouth and down his throat, forcing him to breath. It looked like it enlarged his neck, and the position of his neck and head looked unnatural and uncomfortable.
Over the next two days I watched with growing frustration as he sank. All my instincts as a daughter was to save him by any means. I demanded to speak to doctors. I was angry, hurt, frustrated. My brother urged the doctors to try a novel, desperate procedure. We did not give up because we knew that my father was a fighter. He never gave up.
He never gave up. We never gave up, right up until my father took his last breath in the hospice facility on that hot afternoon.
I broke down, blabbing like a baby. It was the start of a slow grieving process, which opened my eyes to a few things about life.
I will never be the same . . . as I was before. In some ways, I see life as a puzzle – every experience you have forms a piece of your unique puzzle. When combined, they form the entire picture of your life. My father took a piece of my puzzle with him, a piece that will never return. I am incomplete without it, without him. We shared memories that nobody else shares, which means he knew me differently than anyone else. When someone you love dies, that part of you dies as well. You can’t re-live that memory with anyone else. Your puzzle may grow, but you can never replace that missing piece. And because of that, I will never be the same again.
We lost our father, our hero, our inspiration. When I had questions, papa would answer them. He always had the answers. The world had infinite joys to discover and I had endless curiosity. Life seemed to go on forever and I never thought about death. After his funeral, my view of world changed. I thought a lot about death and dying. I still have plenty of questions, but nobody to answer them.
The bewildering mix of grief, pain, shock, and relief in the wake of losing a loved one who has been suffering profoundly will touch everyone differently. I wept mightily that evening. Surrounded by family and friends, I soon found myself dealing with an unfamiliar cocktail of emotions, pain so overwhelming that I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
I wanted to hold it together. I wanted to stay normal, laugh, meet, get on my job, continue with my life like usual. I drowned myself into work. Every time I thought I was pulling myself together, I’d notice his belt buckle sitting on the dresser, or a pair of his socks on the floor, or his photo and suddenly the haphazard stitches I’d been sewing myself up with would tear open with heart-wrenching sobs.
I learned that grief is not something you can hack. There is no listicle that can reassemble your busted heart. Here are ten truths the biggest loss of my life has taught me:
Make a lasting impact when you are alive
During my father’s funeral, there were so many people with tears in their eyes, wept and said, “Your father saved our marriage,” or “He walked with our family through our darkest time,” or “He built my career”, or “He changed my life.”
Many people in my generation, sit on computers all day and tweet or write about compassion, love, mercy, but don’t go anywhere near human suffering, which is the only place it actually matters. I have to change this in my life or I’m going to die with a deep and painful regret. It would be an unspeakable loss to waste my moments on shallow posturing.
Such an outpouring of sincere gratitude for how he chose to live his moments overwhelmed me. I was so sad he was gone, but also the proudest I’ve ever been of anyone. He didn’t just talk about changing the world, he did it in a meaningful way.
The receiving line was filled with stories of how my father stayed with them at the hospital, or was truly present in their suffering or when they were going through troubling phase of their lives, or how he counseled those who had been abused or mistreated.
He dove head first into others people misery and loved them. And it broke their heart when they lost this man.
The most common phrase from those people, “Thank you for sharing him with us.”
Death is real
You 100% will die, and in the scope of time, it’s coming really soon. It will be here for each of us. And it will be even more painful if you waste your life avoiding the moments.
Don’t work so hard to keep yourself distracted and occupied, avoiding the real stuff, you will absolutely regret it.
I had to ask myself some difficult questions throughout this experience.
Do I care who I actually am in the world, or just how people perceive that I am?
You have to touch the soul of others to make any dent in this world. My words to you about this are truly meaningless. Once it touches you closely then it this becomes an apparent reality.
Death brings the gift of urgency to all those who witness it. Reality becomes much more clear.
If you don’t have a strong community around you, it might almost be too much to bear
Throughout this experience my family in India has been surrounded by love and compassion from others.
I thought about the contrast to it as well. If we didn’t have these people visiting at the hospital, hugging us, telling us that they love us, bringing meals, watching the kids, running errands, how much harder would this experience have been.
Immeasurably more difficult to face death and loneliness all at once.
Get some true community or the hard times will be harder.
Continue to carry our father’s legacy to change the world
My fathers impact is far from over. My family and I am the recipient of a vast inheritance of virtue, character and world changing faith. We are now responsible to let this impact ripple through our lives and into the lives of our children.
I can choose not do it. But what a fool I would be.
A man who chooses to live like my father did leave a lasting impact through all the people he influences, none more than his own family.
If he has also given his children wisdom, they won’t break this chain of compassion and purpose in the world.
And this is the true unspoken challenge for humanity. The world becomes what it becomes one generation at a time. Low character, low intention, low compassion and purpose, ripples down. But so does the inverse.
I have to live a life of purpose in the way my father did, or I betray my own lineage. There can be great honor in taking a self-less view of life. This is what my father did and it has taught me so much.
Life is not about living in defeat
If you have survived even one moment after a tragedy, you are a survivor.
Yes, there is a sense of utter hopelessness and despair at first, soon after a loss;but every passing moment shows that you can and you will live this life you have been given.
It proves that you are strong; it proves that you are not a quitter; and above all else, it proves that even if you never forget who or what you have lost, you will not run away from living life.
After all, life is not about living in defeat.
Love is the currency of life
If you are lucky enough to have loved ones in your life, call them often. Visit them often. Share your life with the people who love you.
What can be more important than the people you care about, who care about you?
No one is guaranteed to live a hundred years, and even a hundred years can pass all too fast. It is LOVE that connects us to one another and to the world around us, in life and beyond.
Always Work Your Hardest and stand up for yourself
He believed in hard work and if you want something you need to earn it. There is no way my dad could ever take no for an answer. He had worked hard to build a life for my brother, sisters and I, and he is an amazing role model. I grew up hearing that there is no excuse for not doing your best job and working to constantly be better.
Dad taught me that if you work hard, you will be OK - no matter what happens. You will sleep with a clear conscience knowing that you did all you could do, and ultimately, by being true to your values, good things will continue to come your way.
A pacifist, my father was not. One thing that he did not do is let people walk all over him. He had his pride and his honor and he taught me to stand up for myself whenever I have encountered something unjust. He helped to infuse my self-esteem and taught me to speak my mind, while also diplomatically picking my battles.
Never Give up
My father was one of the most determined people that I ever knew. He never gave up on anything -- no matter how difficult the task seemed. And he never let ME give up on anything, either. You worked to mastery no matter how long that took. I try to pass that persistence -- that sense of "Why quit? There's nothing you can't do!"
My father taught me never to give up...even when it seems that all odds are against you. Don't believe in anyone who doesn't believe in you.
As I think of my father now, I don't see the cancer stricken, pale, weak man before me, I see my father; the person who taught me how to ride a two wheeler, and how to drive a car. The person who drove me to my dance rehearsals, and tv shows along with my mom, sat there for hours, never complaining. The person who recited prayers when I got sick. The person who applauded the loudest when I won debates or any competitions. The person who did so much for his work and society, the person who loved my mother the most and fulfilled all her dreams. The person who loved all his kids equally and ensured his kids receive best education and promising future. That's who I see--and that whom I see is the most beautiful person I can imagine.
Because of my father’s death, I will never be the same. I traded innocence and “fitting in” for understanding and appreciation. I lost my father but gained something in return. Would I give up everything I’ve learned if I could have my father back? I don’t have that option. The only option I have is to make those changes as valuable as possible. If papa can see me, I want him to know that he’s still teaching me and still answering my questions.
This article is dedicated to all those that have lost someone dear to them. If that’s you, know that you are not alone.
Cancer rates are still on the rise and the disease is expected to kill more than 13 million people a year by 2030, almost double the number who died from the disease in 2008. The odds are now very high that you or someone you know has cancer, is dying or has already died from it. It's time to fight back and take control.
Let’s share your thoughts, experience and knowledge and help fight against cancer.
Comments