Author: Joseph Belluck
Moving Beyond Grief After Mesothelioma
We have all heard about there being stages of grief, with the last one being acceptance. Once you do accept that your loved one is gone, what happens from there? I think that maybe “Missing” should be another stage. Even though I have acknowledged that my Dad is gone, I don’t really accept it.
I was there every step of the way throughout my father’s battle with mesothelioma. I saw him suffer, go through physical and emotional trials, and ultimately be taken by this disease. Even though I know what happened, it doesn’t make his death any easier to digest.
Although I still grieve for Dad every day, I think that now I miss him more than at first. In the days and weeks after his passing, I was still in shock, trying to figure out what had happened. How could he really be gone? I was still expecting him to walk through the door, smile, and say that it was all a big misunderstanding and that he was going to be fine.
A profound loss is a lot to process. Once I had a chance to really understand what had happened, I started to really miss Dad. I miss his laugh, his stories, his way of making even the biggest challenges seem like nothing. I miss him at family events, at weddings, on holidays. It’s a different type of grief that will never go away.
Knowing that my father no longer has to bear the agony of mesothelioma does bring me comfort. I know that he is in a better place with no more pain or suffering. Even though I understand that with all of my being, I still miss him. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I would give anything for him to be here to see my daughter. I would love to hear his laugh and have him tell me, one more time, that he loves me and that everything is going to be ok.
Grieving for someone that you love is a long and bitter undertaking. It is a journey that we each have to take in our own way. For me, it is now easier for me to look back and laugh at things that Dad and I did together. Now, I can see these things as fond memories, not painful ones. These recollections deserve to be greeted with a heart full of happiness, not an empty ache.
I will always look back on my Dad’s life and wonder why it couldn’t have been longer. He was taken from us far too soon. However, I know that he would rather us all be happy and think of him with a smile. Even though I’ll always miss my father, I pray that we’ll meet again someday.
Making Friends Amid the Heartbreak of Mesothelioma
When my father was diagnosed with pleural mesothelioma, I felt completely alone. Everyone in my family was doing their best, each in our own way, to process the news, and try to figure out what to do next. Immediately, we were granted a miracle and were contacted by a stranger who helped to point us in the right direction. That stranger is now our extended family. He and his family have become close friends of ours and we are so blessed that God placed them in our lives.
One by one, people began to come out of the woodwork, offering their support and telling me about their own experiences with this disease. Largely, thanks to the Mesothelioma Applied Research Foundation, I realized that we weren’t alone. There were people who had dedicated their lives to helping others just like my Dad, and who were there for me as well.
Over the course of the last four years, I am honored to have become an active member of the mesothelioma community. I have formed friendships with men and women all around the world, our common bond being unfortunate and unwilling members of this club. These individuals inspire me in so many ways. I have learned from them, laughed and cried with them, and worked with them toward our common goal of finding a cure.
To all of my mesothelioma family, thank you for showing me how to carry myself with grace in the face of heartbreak, just like you all do. You motivate me to do more, and I am truly humbled by your constant love and support.
Know more about Mesothelioma and how you can deal with it.
Fundraising for Mesothelioma at the Dunbar Community Fest
It’s the time of year once again for my hometown’s community festival, the Dunbar Community Fest. It’s always at the end of September, a beautiful beginning to the Fall season, and this year it is being held on Sept. 24. Once again, my family is continuing our Fundraising Efforts for the Mesothelioma Applied Research Foundation at this wonderful festival.
This community has supported my family throughout the years. During the time that Dad battled mesothelioma our friends in Dunbar were there for us during our ups and downs. We are grateful for their continued support as they remember Dad and help us raise funds for The Meso Foundation to help other families dealing with this cancer.
Each year, we try to do something a little different with our raffle table. One year, we introduced t-shirts, another we did a mystery prize, and another we were able to raffle off a trip to a local resort. This year, we will be selling our “Dining with Donnie” cookbooks, as well as offering our usual raffle items. We will also be raffling off a corn hole set.
Many of the people who live here are my family as well, and others might as well be! We appreciate the continued outpouring of love and we welcome hearing the memories of my Dad. It’s bound to be a day filled with laughter, smiles, and fun!
To find out more about the festival visit Dunbar Community Fest.
Yes, America, Mesothelioma is Real
From the time I was little, I remember seeing the commercials on television about mesothelioma. When my father was diagnosed, that was all that I knew of this disease. I think that a lot of people probably fit into this category. But, now I know that, yes, mesothelioma is real.
Mesothelioma is a real disease. Real people are its victims, real people spend their lives tirelessly researching and treating those affected. Real people help their loved ones cope with the diagnosis and subsequent treatments, and real people fundraise and educate others about the dangers of asbestos and the desperate need for a cure.
Like most major trials in life, you never think that they can happen to you. You think that mesothelioma is some far off, distant “thing” that would not impact your life in any way. I’ll be perfectly honest, that was my way of thinking. I would see the ads on TV and feel sorry for the people who had to deal with this detriment, but not in a million years did I think that it would eventually steal my Dad, at the age of 57, from me.
When I talk about this cancer, people ask me if it’s a real thing, or if it’s a joke. Sometimes, even when I explain my story to them, they still think that it’s all some sort of money making scheme. I try my best to communicate to these individuals that it is, in fact, a reality; it is a huge part of my reality, and the reality of so many others in this community who have been rocked by mesothelioma.
Thankfully, the doctors, nurses, caregivers, researchers, and all who advocate for mesothelioma patients and their families are also real. They will never give up their fight to educate others and to eventually eradicate this disease; then, the next generation will see mesothelioma as an ancient, nonexistent disease, not something that will ever be real to them.
Memories Left Unmade Because of Mesothelioma
For most people my age, going to see your father entails conversing with the man that was always there for you, reminiscing about fond memories and creating new ones. Visiting my Dad used to mean walking into a home filled with his smile, laughter, and charm. It meant spending time with the person who was always there for me, someone who always would be. That was until mesothelioma became a part of our lives.
Now, visiting my father means driving up a long, windy road to the top of a hill. I get out of the vehicle, walk about 50 feet, and gaze upon a black piece of marble. I stop and talk to him, but I get no answer. There is no more of his laughter; that sound now only exists in my memory. Now, spending time with my Dad means going to a cemetery.
As I walk up to the place where we laid him to rest, I am always overcome with emotions that bring me to tears. I think of how much I miss him. I ponder why this had to become his fate. I try to hold back the anger I feel that he ended up with mesothelioma, and how it could have been prevented if only people had been more responsible. I wonder why anyone would take the dangers of asbestos so lightly that they would endanger other’s lives as if they were disposable.
Each and every person who has been a victim of this disease has a story. They have a family and people who love them. They are not nameless faces, they are God’s children. They are more than just a stone, marking where they now lie.
As I stand by my father’s grave, I remember his funeral and the outpouring of love that was present that day. I remember the smile he gave me the last time I saw him, and the last “I love you” over the phone, 45 minutes before he passed away. These are memories that I will always cherish, but I still long for the ones left unmade because of mesothelioma.
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