Unknowingly it all begins in 1972

On January 9, 1972 Leukemia stole my dad from me – he was 51.
On March 20, 1972 cancer took my mom – she was 48.
I was only 11.
What does an eleven year old feel they she loses her parents within 3 months to cancer? I can honestly say, at the time, relief.

Like all dads he was my hero – he could do anything, except slay the cancer dragon. Like all little girls (and the youngest of the family) I had my dad wrapped securely around my baby finger. In 1971 Leukemia snuck up behind him when he was taking care of my mom, providing for our family and stole him. How dare Leukemia take him? Didn’t cancer know that I needed him to be my rock? Why did it have to be my dad? Who would teach me to drive? Who would walk me down the aisle?

I remember the day like it was yesterday, when I heard my mom received THE call that she would need to go to St. John, New Brunswick for chemo treatments, this was around 1965. I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I remember her crying as she talked on the phone – I knew that this trip to St. John did not include a fun weekend at my favourite aunts. Seeing her cry made me cry – with her best reassurance she said ‘everything will be OK – don’t worry’. This was the beginning of the end for her.
She made many trips to St. John for chemo, many visits to the hospital, towards the end of her life, our family doctor made nightly trips into our house to give mom something to help her sleep and be comfortable and ease the pain.

At eleven I had no idea the impact of losing my parents would have on my life – I just knew that they, especially my mom, was no longer in pain, which she was no longer suffering. Relief that there were no more surgeries, relief that there were no more trips to the hospital for her, relief the doctor no longer had to make the nightly trip into the house, relief that her pain was gone, relief that it was finally over.

I understand now the impact. They missed seeing me drive, graduate, walk me down the aisle to my husband Carl. (And would they have loved him. Carl would have enjoyed many drinks with my dad under the tree on the front lawn. He would have also teased my mom, and she would have swatted him with the dish towel, and made his favourite meals). They missed meeting my step-daughters, and grand-daughter. They missed seeing me become an adult.

Now that I am an adult (some of my friends will completely disagree with me on this). The day I turned 48 was very emotional for me. That was the age she was when she died. I have now out lived her – and 48 is not old, although it seemed like it was at 11. When I turned 48, I wanted to honour this woman, who fought this disease for most of the time I had known her. Whatever we did had to be challenging, so my husband, Carl and I participated 7 of the Weekend to End Breast Cancer events across Canada.

Two years from now, when I turn 51, I will be the same age as my dad was when Leukemia stole him. I will do something special to honour him.

I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason – even losing my parents at 11. It has made me passionate about raising money for cancer research and care so that no parent has to leave a young daughter behind ..."