This Father’s Day hit home more than any other.
Typical to many immigrant stories, my father came from humble beginnings. He grew up with no parents, his own father passed when he was 5 and his mother left the family thereafter. He was raised by his grandmother and sisters in Hong Kong and naturally rebellious ended up spending most of his time in the streets leading what some might call a local gang during that period. Ambition and curiousity led him to the states to pursue higher education. With 2 suitcases to his name and knowing no one, he managed to parlay his heart and soul into a PHD in pure mathematics and build a family of his own. Education was everything. As he’d like to say around the dinner table, money comes and goes, but no one can take your education away from you.
Against the odds, he climbed the corporate ranks above and beyond the barriers that existed and ultimately came back to his passion, which was education. He was committed. When he committed to something nothing stood in his way of achieving it.
A year ago he was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer, a cancer with one of the lowest survival rates on the chart. And if you know cancer, you’ve most likely gone through the rabbit hole of dozens of these charts looking for the one with the best odds so that you have that extra slither of hope.
When I heard the news I was going through my own rollercoaster at work and home and now this. Everything else became trivial. By making trips back and forth and triangulating amongst experts we found the best in the world who would agree to take this on and proceed rapidly with trimodality therapy, a combination of chemotherapy, radiation and surgery.
It may have been the only time I’ve seen my father in a vulnerable state. Unsure if he would beat this thing that came out of left field that could potentially kill him. This was a tough period. He’d not only endured and pushed through adversity and resistance over and over in the past, but evolved as a result of it, like a coil bouncing up and to the right with every obstacle, becoming a better version of himself.
He thrived in chaos and uncertainty. He’s antifragile. As Taleb defines it, “Antifragility is beyond resilience or robustness. The resilient resists shocks and stays the same; the antifragile gets better.” This time was different though. This was out of his control.
A year later he’s cancer free and we’re grateful for each new day. He’s living with heart and soul. Committed to making it count. To making each day more magical than the next. Happy Father’s Day Dad.
Fuck cancer.
