Medical personal dashed in and out of the room. I was thinking,“Cry, please cry.” I was petrified. At that moment I would have done anything just to hear him scream.
Then I saw them remove the mask. He opened his mouth and scrunched5 his face and let out a big, strong “Whaaaaaa!”
It sounded like the wail of life. I had wanted to show him, but he had just shown me, that life was about staying tough. You fight to go on.
Cancer was the making of me: through fear and pain I became amorepassionate6 and intelligent man, husband and father—and therefore a more alive one.
I remember many nights after we first brought Luke home. Sometimes I’d lift him out of his cot and take him back to bed with me, and I’d lay him on my chest.
Every cry of his delighted me. He’d throw back his head and his chin would tremble, his hands would claw the air and he’d wail. “Yeah, that’s right.” I’d tell him. “Go on.”