August 20th is always a difficult day to get through. This day is my dad's birthday, he would have been 75 this year. My dad's death had a hugely negative impact on me, not just because I lost my father whom I love so much, but also because he died from complications of a disease we both shared.
To be eleven years old and watch your dad die from a stroke right before your eyes is bad enough. To know that it was his type I diabetes, a disease you have as well, that lead to it...well that is downright petrifying.
Here I was, a fragile 11 year old, watching my father die, it sent me into a typhoon of rebellion that lasted way too many years. Dad took very good care of himself, dad ate healthy, exercised daily, took his medication, and checked his blood-glucose religiously, making sure it stayed in the healthy range, And he still developed complications: heart disease, and the beginnings of kidney failure. Dad took such good care of his diabetes, but it still killed him at a young age, 50.
In my 11 year old mind I thought, "Why should I even try? If dad took such good care of himself and still died, what's the point?"
On bad days, when things just won't fall in line for me, I still think this way.