Community Member-Led Event

It was the day after Mother’s Day in 2016. While visiting my parents for the weekend right before going back to UT Austin to finish my finals, my mom and I woke up to a strange, Twilight Zone experience. My dad kept repeating the same questions over and over every few minutes. At first we thought he must be joking, but quickly realized that something was very wrong. My dad, seeing the concerned looks on our faces, started to cry and get worried. My mom calmly got us together and took us to the nearest urgent care where they performed a CT scan. My dad looked at us while we waited for the results and reminded us that no matter what happened, he loved us so much. Even with a tumor growing, making him act a bit strange, he was always so good at saying the right things at the right times. We got the news that he had a tumor and they would need to transport him to Baylor in Dallas to perform the MRI. My mom and I followed the ambulance to the hospital and no more than 24 hours later, Doctor Kerr was performing brain surgery on my dad, which was the beginning of a 30+ day stay for him at the hospital.

Over the course of 3 long, yet short months, my dad used all of the strength he had within him to fight a cancer that would ultimately take him away from us, first with his bright personality, then with his physical abilities, and lastly with a breathy I love you to my mom as he left this world. We were devastated. My dad was the glue to the family, to so many of our friendships, and he brought a love and care that you don’t get from most people. He was warm, gave the BEST hugs, and taught me so much of what I know today. I was lucky to have a dad like him, even if I only got 21 years with him. Growing up, he would sing in the mornings, clap his hands loudly, and bounce around the kitchen at 6am as happy as a bird to be given the gift of a bright, new day. He overcame so many obstacles his whole life and made it his mission to see other people happy. He lit up rooms, he loved seeing people laugh, and was a person that I grew to genuinely look up to, not just because he was my dad, but because he had a good heart.

In honor of what would have been his 60th birthday and the 10 year anniversary since he passed, I wanted to set up this fundraiser page and publish my book of poems. Over the last 10 years, I worked on this book about grief and growing from that place of loss. I wanted to provide some validation for others who may be experiencing loss.

I know my dad wouldn’t want anyone to experience what he did with this cancer, I know he didn’t want his family and his friends crying and in pain watching him suffer, and so, I feel quite strongly about commemorating his life in a way that helps end this suffering. If you have the extra means or know someone who does, please share to help researchers find a cure for Glioblastoma.

Thank you for your support!
- Raquel Phillips -