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Adam’s Dad, Dickie, lost a battle with cancer in 2000

Hey dad, it’s me Ad. I remember that I was 11 years old when you were diagnosed with cancer and 24 when you died in my arms. In writing this, I realize that I’ve spent more of my life with you battling cancer than, than not. And it’s been 19 years without my dad, my hero and my friend. I keep waiting for the loss that I feel to dissipate but I’m someone who always feels things very strongly and losing you was the worst thing that has ever happened to me so it makes sense that I would still feel so much pain and loss. I really miss you and all of your faults. You were moody and so closed off that you could barely talk to me about your feelings or what was even going on with you. I still remember that time I tried to explain to you when I was 15 , how scared I was, about you dying, that i was losing you. And I remember you told me that it didn’t bother you so why should it bother me? I realize you were just doing what you had to do, but that really left me on an island with so much left unsaid, we could never talk to each other…about you dying. The things that were left unsaid were not negative. You were flawed, just like we all are, but I have never met anyone like you.

You Loved my two best friends like they were your own sons and they loved you right back. How did I get so fucking lucky to get a father like that? While the way you handled and battled your cancer left me feeling isolated emotionally, you were absolutely the most bad ass motherfucker I’ve ever met. Not complaining once about the bone marrow procedure that was described by your doctor as “excruciatingly painful”, Scheduling your chemo therapy appointments in the early hours of the morning so you could still be to work on time and go to trial. I can’t imagine what that takes physically and emotionally to undergo chemotherapy and then go into a high-stakes trial an hour later. Whenever I feel incapable or afraid, or not enough, I think about what you did and it gives me strength. And I’ll never be able to repay you for that.

I remember how shocked I was when I found out that after you died, that your cancer diagnosis was terminal, from the beginning. I never knew that. I thought that you could beat it. But you lived your life so fully even though you knew that it wasn’t curable. I realize now, nearly 20 years later, that the pain of losing you will never disappear. And that’s because of the man that I am and the father that you were. And I like it that way. I like the pain, it makes me think about you. And by way, It’s a way of staying close to you, even though it hurts. We still talk about you, Peter and I, and We both miss you so fucking much.

I hope you’re proud of me, just like I am so proud of you. And I wonder what you think about what I do now for a living, helping others. And being in service to those who are in a worse position than I am. I would‘ve never been here if it weren’t for you, because I would have never been a lawyer if it weren’t for you. Even though I hated being a lawyer, i have you and your influence to thank for getting me to this career that I love so much. Anyway, I just miss you dad, and I know we’ll see each other again. Yeah, I’ll know we’ll see each other again. That’s it.

Adam Dodge is the Legal and Technology Director at Laura's House, a domestic violence organization in Southern California. Adam says “where am I extremely lucky to work with, and be inspired by, survivors every day.”