Crappy Anniversary / Happy Anniversary

I have a mind for numbers, dates especially. I used to have a very sharp memory before I had kids. In the pre-Facebook era it was very handy to remember everybody's birthdays, anniversaries, and other milestones. In the post-cancer chapter of my life, I sometimes have to work to purposely forget the dates when certain things happened, because there is plenty I do not want to commemorate. In some ways I am grateful that parenting has turned portions of my brain into mush. And really, there are only so many dates on the calendar. Live long enough and almost every day could be the anniversary of something.

I've got dates on the brain because one unfortunate anniversary is looming and there is no escaping it. This Sunday will be March 13, which marks five years to the day that my dad - and the rest of us - first learned he had cancer. Though I can remember every detail about the day we got the call, the date itself wasn't important to my dad. I reminded him once or twice of passing that date and he seemed surprised each time that we had marked another year.

This year the date was to have incredible significance. For one thing, at the beginning of his cancer journey, his oncologist predicted he could live with his disease about five years. I hated that he was given an expiration date. Furthermore, epidemiologists record cancer survival rates by those who have lived five years after being diagnosed, even if they are in active treatment. As I addressed in a previous post, only one percent of those who have the kind of cancer he had ever make it to that milestone. I never doubted he would be one of those longterm survivors.

Instead of celebrating a huge victory against cancer this year, we will be missing my dad. But March 13 won't live in infamy. We're already taking it back. This year we celebrate the most special thing any family can gain: new life. My daughter will celebrate her first birthday on the 12th, and have her first birthday party on the 13th. If that doesn't make the 13th a day worth feeling good about, nothing ever could.