A Look Back

I was talking with a student today after school about the persuasive speech he was working on. Somehow, in our discussion, I recalled NPR's now-defunct program, "This I Believe." I pulled up a particular speech for him - one that related to his topic -, and remembered that I had written my own "This I Believe" essay. Although I wrote this pre-diagnosis, the sentiment expressed herein seems particularly apropos right now. And so I share it with you.

Life presents us with joy and with sorrow. Good times are sandwiched in between not-so-good times, making life an interesting array of experiences and adventures. Family issues, personal issues, relationship issues, work issues, school issues, issues, issues, issues. From an early age, I have had my share of issues. But I suppose to refer to them as issues gives power over to them. I may not have asked for many experiences I have encountered, they were meant to be. I didn’t ask to be the ninth child of nine children, the youngest in a large Roman Catholic family. But I was.  This is the life I have been granted, that has been given to me. And throughout my life, I have had my share of adversity. But it is because of that adversity that I am who I am today. I wouldn’t trade it for the chance at a better, happier, more peanut-butter-and-jelly, perfect life. This I believe: I believe that the human spirit is indomitable, that it can endure hardship after hardship and triumph. Through my experiences and adversity, I have survived. I have come through and flourished because I can confidently proclaim: “Here I am world. This is who I am.”

When I was in the fourth grade, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. Being the youngest in my family, I knew my mom was ill, but my dad made the decision not to tell me that mom had cancer. The “c” word did become part of my vocabulary, but not because someone had to tell me what it was and what it could do. I witnessed it first hand. I saw it in the faces of my siblings and the fear in my dad’s voice. I saw it in my mom’s face when she returned from the hospital. I wasn’t told until after mom survived this first bout with cancer that she had been given the last rites. I wasn’t told that she had almost died. I wasn’t told a lot of things. And because of not being told, I knew. I knew that anything that could not be spoken, especially to a ten year old, must be grave. My mom survived her first bout with cancer, and lived a productive, creative, and meaningful life, a mother of nine children and wife of almost forty years. The cancer never fully retreated. Lung cancer was followed by brain cancer was followed by breast cancer was followed by everywhere cancer over the course of thirteen years. My mother died in 1990 when I was not quite twenty-three.

My mother never lost hope during her battle with cancer. Her spirit never wavered; her faith never faltered; and her sense of humor never faded. Even when hospitalized for the last time, she would respond “Great!” when asked how she was doing. “Complain” wasn’t in her vocabulary. In watching her, I saw true strength first-hand.  Weakened and feeble from the ravages of cancer, the strength of her spirit couldn’t have been more evident. It is with the same spirit she lived her life. It is only fitting that it would also be the way she embraced her death.

It is the power of my mom’s spirit that has enabled me to endure some of the hardships and challenges in my life: Sibling rivalries, addictions, and suicide attempts; the heroin overdose and death of my sister; my own encounter with brain surgery; and watching my dad grow older alone. A high school teacher now, I look out on my students and want to tell them that they will make it despite the challenges they encounter in their lives, that they will make it because of the challenges they encounter. Sure, I have my moments of doubt and uncertainty, of days when I don’t feel very good about who I am or the job I am doing, or the type of husband I am. I would say to them embrace the challenges they experience in life. Don’t try to soften the reality of the pain, anguish, or suffering you may endure. For I truly believe that it is in our moments of greatest despair and weakness that we discover our genuine strength. If not for the challenges in my life, I would not have the perspective and wisdom to share in my job as a high school English teacher and coach. I would not have recognized the beauty and strength of my wife, Christine, and the strength of my spirit would not have had the opportunity to pull me through to allow me to realize that life is wonderful, joyful, and full of love.