No Pain, No Gain

            There is some truth to the expression “No Pain, No Gain”, and it can apply to many aspects of a life. It has been a little over four years since the death of my wife. My now 16 year old daughter was 12 at the time. The loss of a mother for a girl just entering her teen years can be catastrophic. A child can start acting out in many ways. Drugs, poor school work, anger issues, etc. I truly feel that the honesty we fostered in our relationship has made all the difference.

            My daughter was eight when we found the spot on her mother lower back. Testing proved it to be melanoma and it had probably metastasized. My wife and I discussed how we would proceed, both with treatment and how we would approach I the diagnosis as a family. We concluded not to sugar coat the results. Even at eight, honesty was a necessity. Anything less was not only unfair, but would have eventually been detected. Children are very good at spotting deception. Also, later, when they discover you had kept them in the dark, you will have lost trust and replaced it with resentment. This crucial decision has shaped our relationship into one of open communication. Four years of treatment were witnessed by my daughter and I. We became educated the drugs being used, their side effects, and their (hoped for) results. We learned which foods were best with the treatments. What exercises helped with the pain. The odds of survival (survival defined as 5 years) were slim. After she died we had the ability to mourn together and not have to hide our feeling form each other. Over the years we have talked many hours. Now the memories which at first brought so much pain and tears, now give joy and laughter.

            My daughter is now a Junior in high school. She has a goal of becoming a nurse. With education we received during her mother’s course of treatment the subject matter in the courses she takes is not unfamiliar to her. Friday nights she volunteers at the local hospital. She is never more comfortable then when at the hospital. It is like a second home and the nurses like extended family.

            We discuss now, not what we lost with her mother’s death, but what we’ve gained. We now experience an overwhelming sense of empathy and understanding for those families who have to fight an illness, and especially for those who lose that fight. We carry a need to reach out and help others. To tell them it is okay to hurt, and okay to heal. My daughter and I have taken different paths to fill this desire. For her it is the medical profession, nursing in particular. For me it is my writing and some legislative work to help those that have lost a loved one. Either way, when we look back we do not dwell on the PAIN of loss. We stand tall and appreciate what we have GAINED.