You wake up one day and life changes forever. By the time this day came to pass in my life, my father had been retired from the military service for several years, my mother finally enjoyed a life free from the dictates of regular moves to distant lands, and I was living at home so that I could attend the local university. An otherwise ordinary day, this one was destined to start an adventure of the heart for all of us.

Growing up I only knew a father that was in the army, traveled frequently and enjoyed a rather authoritative view on life. He was caring yet firm and usually unemotional and distant. A good provider, he seemed lost in a masculine dominated world that taught him to keep his feelings suppressed and his strength in the form of discipline and words. Together my mother and father shared a life. However, it often lacked emotional support. Perhaps if it were not for us kids, they may have parted ways long before.

For weeks, we had noticed my mother becoming more easily fatigued and running out of steam for no apparent reason. One day she finally decided to go to a doctor and have some tests run. The best diagnosis they could come up with was a rare form of anemia. The only solution was to do blood transfusions in hopes of restoring her energy and giving her some quality of life. Coming home that day life would never be the same.

For the next few months we would go through cycles of energy with each transfusion, from high to low with each low getting lower and coming more quickly. Through the now regular trips to the hospital a strange thing began to occur. My father started going to all of my mother’s hospital stays and doctor’s visits. He allowed himself to cry. He held her hand. He turned to others and asked for help. In the midst of the tragedy of illness, my father started to let go.

Somewhere deep inside, my father’s heart started to open. Facing the fact that he may lose his wife, he responded by letting go of his masculine control. The father I had grown up with was changing right before me. He was beginning to show a side I had never known: unconditional kindness. Caring and devoted, helpful and encouraging, my father was letting himself become emotional.

As things seemed to get worse, my mother appeared to be losing the battle. In an effort of abject strength, she decided one morning to go to the Mayo Clinic in hopes of a slight chance of help. My parents made immediate plans, set aside everything at home and work, and off they went. Within days a new reality emerged, she had been in fact, misdiagnosed from the beginning. The new verdict was even more dire than the first; she had a rare form of cancer. But, this was potentially treatable with the new wonder drug of the day - interferon.

Now I was able to witness an even greater transformation. My father began doing everything in his power to help my mother become well again. As a family, we attended cancer support groups, my father shared in the daily shot regimen and fixed up the house to accommodate her in every way. As she responded to treatment, he stood by her and when the treatments failed to put her in remission, he was next to her as well.

What was supposed to end in a few months became a new beginning. What may have been a year of time together has endured for nearly 20 now. A second cancer has come and gone and my father has even had his own momentary bout with prostate cancer. Through it all, he has grown to become a real man with real feelings.

You see, kindness doesn’t always happen randomly in isolated events. Sometimes it grows into a regular way of participating in life. And ... sometimes you are privileged to watch it transform the lives of those closest to you.