March 3rd 2024

Photo by spemone on Pexels.com

It’s time we had a little talk.

On 3rd March 2024, my dad will celebrate his 70th birthday. A milestone birthday, it’s a day that’s not just celebrated as a significant moment in life, but it also holds much spiritual weight to it. Why? Well, there are religious connotations to it. For example, in Christianity and Judaism making it to your 70th birthday signals a time of poignancy and reflection of one’s own life. China’s most influential philosopher Confucius also said that “…at 70, I could follow what my heart desired, without transgressing the boundaries of right.” Indeed, it was a time of self-reflection and has traditionally been seen as the benchmark age for many cultures.

Making it to 70 was one of the wishes my dad had after he was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. He said to us that “if he could make it to 70, he would die happy.” Of course, if you’ve read my other blog or know me, then you understand that it didn’t happen. He never got his wish – as many of us so often don’t.

What’s troubling me the most is that I had set out to do all these amazing things in honour of my dad’s 70th birthday, but due to various traumatic events happening in my life since his passing, it’s not really worked out the way I originally intended. I was going to do a swimathon to raise money for The Brain Tumour Charity in his honour, for instance, but due to the above it was never meant to be.

Does that make me a selfish or a bad person? No, because my dad knows exactly what I’ve been through and exactly why I haven’t done it. He’s watched me since his passing on 13th March 2022 and given me the strength to endure. And he knows that, at some point in my lifetime, I will do something to honour him – no matter how small or big it may be.

Instead, I’m visiting him at the crematorium – as I do every year on his birthday – and laying some flowers at the beautiful ‘Grandmother Willow’ tree where we spread his ashes. In time, I’ll also do this with my own children, showing them that we honour those who have fallen before us and respect those who have passed on. Sure, he didn’t fight any great battles or win wars, but he at least tried to fight something insidious that he knew he could never win. He was strong, right up to the very end, even though he was incredibly scared.

Many of us fear death. Yet it’s not the actual moment of dying that makes us so afraid, it’s the not knowing what we’ll die of. This past week alone has taught many of us that our own mortality could be near. We learnt that the ex BBC Strictly Come Dancing star, Robin Windsor, died at the age of 44. Kenneth Mitchell, an actor from Star Trek: Discovery, died at the age of 49 from ALS. Another actor, Chris Gauthier, who starred in Once Upon a Time and Smallville, also died at the age of 48 from a brief short illness. Yet on the other end of the scale, we have a World War II veteran who is a golfing fanatic, that’s just celebrated his 100th birthday – and he looks absolutely remarkable for his age.

When it comes to our own mortality, we have two choices: fight or flight. Recently, there’s been talk around Parkinson’s again after Michael J. Fox hosted the best film award at the BAFTAs ceremony and how he looks great, despite the challenges he has faced since diagnosis, after getting a standing ovation. Then there’s been news circulating Robin Williams, when Glenn Close claimed that he would “still be alive” if it wasn’t for Christopher Reeve’s death in 2004, albeit with the incurable brain disease Lewy Body Dementia.

In the case of Robin Williams, he opted for flight because he knew (or at least thought he knew) what his own death would look like. My dad had never witnessed anyone close to him die of cancer, in fact his mum defeated breast cancer and his dad fought off septicemia. For him, fighting was the only way to go, so in reality there was no other option for him.

That’s why he wanted to get to his 70th birthday – because it was important for him. He had a goal and he did whatever he could in terms of treatment to try and reach it. In the end, he said to me, “Colette, I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it to your wedding.” I said it was okay, and that I knew he’d be watching over me.

I married my husband on 3rd December 2022. There were about six rainbows that day. So ever since then, I’ve looked for him in rainbows, and know that he’s right there watching me make all the mistakes and all the best memories.

So, Dad, this day is for you. Happy 70th Birthday! You made it.