When my children were born, the first thought that I had was "I only hope I could be half the father that my dad was." My father was the most important person in my life. He taught me so many things about life. Dad taught me how to fish, hunt, do handyman work, and be a good husband and a good Christian. Most importantly though, he guided me on how to be a good father to my boys.

I will never forget the day when I received the phone call from my mom. "Something is wrong with Daddy; he doesn't know where he is." Immediately, the only thought that went through my head was that he either had Alzheimer's or brain cancer and I prayed that it was latter. Although I knew that cancer would be fatal, I had known several people that Alzheimer's and knew that that diagnosis would be a long difficult road for everyone.

Throughout my life, having a mother who was an oncologist and a father who was a clinical chemist was both a blessing and a curse. Kids would pick on me, people would accuse me of coming from a rich family, which we weren't, and I was always expected to follow in their footsteps. When my father became ill though, it was a blessing. Since both of my parents were in the medical field, they knew some of the best doctors and had all of the hospital contacts to get a quick diagnosis. Within 12 hours, Dad had received an M.R.I. and we learned that he had a brain tumor. I know it's a hard concept for some people to grasp, but this was actually a relief for everyone in the family, including Dad. Now that he was diagnosed, the difficult road of dealing with his cancer began.

Daddy immediately was entered into an experimental treatment where they injected chemotherapy directly into the brain through the carotid artery. That first treatment was very difficult for him, as it was very painful and made him violently ill. This brought up the question of whether we were doing the right thing. It was now only two weeks after his diagnosis but Dad was deteriorating quickly. The moments of confusion, disorientation and anger were more frequent and most of the time, he did not know what was going on. After much prayer, my mother and I decided that we should discontinue the treatments and let my father live out his last few months in peace and comfort.

Visiting him one month after his diagnosis was very difficult for me. I had just bought a new Ford F-350 dually pickup truck, which was his dream car, and I was so excited

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