Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always had this fear
of losing my parents. It probably stemmed from watching too many crime shows on
TV, where the parents would get killed and the children are orphaned. I
sometimes would picture frightening scenarios in my head. Burglars in the
house, my mom getting shot. Or my dad getting into an accident. Stuff like
that. Weird, I know.
This fear has grown with me, and has become a permanent
part of my system. It’s probably what clinical studies would call Adult
Separation Anxiety Disorder, where one has this uncontrollable, inexplicable
fear of losing a significant person in his life.
I am scared to death of losing my family.
When I found out that my Dad was diagnosed with acute
leukemia, I think my heart stopped beating and a voice in my head was
whispering, “He’s going to die.” Mom emailed me the news. I was devastated. I
took an emergency leave the next day, cancelling all guestings on my show last
minute. I asked my husband to skip work and stay home with me. I cried all
night, and my head was swimming with fear, questions, sadness. I kept asking my
husband, “Is my Dad going to die?” His constant answer was, “No. He’s not. Stay
in the light.”
I guess it’s easy for other people, other members of the
family, to “stay in the light” and keep positive. I’m probably over-reacting or
thinking too far ahead, but I can’t help it. It’s this childhood fear of mine
that has stayed with me until now, refusing to let go.
When I received the news, I couldn’t talk. I was afraid
of telling my husband, of saying it out loud, because I thought if I did then
it would become real. But now I’m slowly realizing that talking about it is
actually a way of becoming stronger than my fear, accepting this trial and
believing that God is in full control. That’s why I decided to write about it,
to release all the negative thoughts and unnecessary worries, and to ask help
from each person who reads this to pray for my Dad’s healing and recovery. They
say there are many similar cases here in the Philippines, and many of these
cancer patients have recovered and continue to live normal, healthy lives. I
need to teach myself to believe that just like them, my Dad will also get
better. I need to slowly overcome this fear. I have to have faith.
My Dad is starting chemotherapy tomorrow. He’ll be
confined in an isolated, sterilized room for a month there in MD Anderson in
Houston, Texas. I pray with all my might that God will give him the strength
and endurance to see him through each day of his treatment. And I pray that
after all this, my Daddy will be okay, and will come back home to us in great
condition, with his usual smile, saying “whattaheck” and giving work
instructions to my Mom and siblings. God is good.
Thank you for praying for my Dad, for my family, and for me as well.
That I may stay in the light, and keep the faith.
