A Story for English

Please Send Me a Rainbow

        My dad went in for a check up after coughing up blood during a cycling race. The doctor said it was just asthma and his symptoms were “normal”; they gave him an inhaler and sent him on his way. Over a short amount of time, his breathing was worsening and for an avid cyclist, this was strange. He was referred to a specialist who later diagnosed him with a rare form of lung cancer and had an estimated time of four to eight months to live.

      A young healthy dad with five kids was told he had a limited time to live. He played football, swam, biked, and worked out at the gym. He was healthy. Why him?

     During countless surgeries, chemotherapy treatments, hospital stays, and biopsies to fix the problem, he uttered not a single word of complaint, no matter how much pain he was in. I remember watching his strong, healthy body deteriorate to nothing but skin and bones over the six months he fought his battle. I remember asking why he had to wear that tube up his nose and what it was used for, because at the time, I was only ten. 

      The last day he had tubes feeding him, helping him breath; machines keeping him alive until we could say our last goodbyes. I wanted to be in the room when the machines were turned off. I remember holding his swollen hands and asking him to send me a rainbow. I remember the puddles that filled his closed eyes. I remember watching my mom be strong for us kids, when deep down inside she was broken. I remember crying all night wishing to have him back.  

Reflect back on your past.

It's a Love-Lee Day!

Love,

Makenna Lee