In early January, my dad found out he had colon cancer. On January 31, he had surgery to remove a large portion of his colon to try and get rid of the cancer. Tests were immediately done on 24 of his lymph nodes, and after a few days, we found out that all the cancer had been successfully removed. Even with the cancer out, he was still very weak, tired, and in a state that made him very uncomfortable.

My sister (Jule) and I went home for a week to help my mom out and be there for my dad. Interestingly enough, I discovered he was there for me as much as I was there for him. So I thought I’d write him a letter…

Dad,

So this is going to sound weird, but I don’t think I realized how alike we are until you had cancer.

When I got divorced, I didn’t want people to worry about me. I wanted to be seen as strong, moving forward, happy, on the other side.

I said “yes” to so many things. I filled my schedule. I loaded up my social media with all the great things I was doing.

However, a couple of months ago, I think everything hit me. I was so tired. My self-confidence was low. And I just didn’t feel like myself.

I started figuring out I had to say “no” to more things. I needed to prioritize my health and my well being. I had filled my life with too much, and I wasn’t letting anything new in- or cleaning anything old out.

I needed to let myself be weak. I needed to let myself be ok with not being the strongest. And Jesus- I could cry sometimes.

Dad- when I saw you at the hospital, recovering in your bed, you were weak. You were tired. Just thinking of your face as you looked at me- I could see it in your eyes that you didn’t want me to see you that way. I know this- because I’m the same way.

When I got divorced, I didn’t want people staring at me, feeling sorry for me, asking over and over, “are you ok?”

“Um, no. No, I’m not ok. Ok?”

But I wasn’t going to respond like that. How could I? I don’t want to make people uncomfortable, or God forbid, awkward. That’d be the worst.

But wait. Maybe- just maybe- I should be ok with not being ok sometimes.

Look- I went through divorce. You went through surgery- and cancer! Let’s be honest. Maybe we should let ourselves be weak for a minute here.

What I learned from you this past week, Dad, is just because I’m weak, doesn’t mean I’m not strong. Just because I’m sad, doesn’t mean I’m not happy.

You taught me to be vulnerable.

So now that I’m vulnerable, I’ll just get these things out that I haven’t really been forward about with you or anyone in the family. I am so excited for Jule to get married. But maybe it’s hard to hear about the wedding all the time. I was told by the person I cared about more than anyone else, “you are not my priority.” And that affected my confidence. And sometimes I’m just not going to be happy and social and all smiles. And that really has nothing to do with all of you. I just need time to myself.

I wanted to give you that permission too. It’s ok that you’re weak. It’s ok that you’re tired. It’s ok that you’re scared. Because you’re still one of the strongest, most loving, and most fearless people I know. And I will always love you, no matter what.

Love, Miss