News is a fast industry. You have to jump from topic to topic, learn new information, fact-check it and ensure you’re following ethical guidelines. Sometimes, it moves so quickly that the days roll by faster than humanly possible. In the news, everything matters.
But sometimes you hear news that makes everything not matter as much anymore.
Most of us get that kind of news at some point.
I heard such news a few weeks ago when my dad called and told me he was diagnosed with cancer, again. Suddenly, instantly, nothing else mattered to me other than hearing and listening to his voice without letting the lump in my throat choke my words of encouragement.
All I could reasonably say is that it wasn’t fair. At one point, I said I was sorry.
It’s funny, in a way, that everything can seemingly matter all the time until that mirage fades and you realize that most things are wildly out of your control. It’s a stark reminder of human fragility despite being surrounded by it virtually every day while working in news. It’s a reminder that despite all of our efforts to take hold of our lives, there are vast, unexplainable things that will constantly interrupt our hubris.
No one in 麻豆社国产should know my dad; he lives far away from here. But if anyone knows me, then they’ll know the values that my dad has imparted.
My dad has an unyielding faith in people to do the right thing. We often joke in our family that my mom has seen him angry only three times in almost 45 years of marriage. I always thought my dad believed good things about me because I am his son, but in reality, he sees the good in everyone around him.
He’s so weirdly optimistic that it’s pretty disarming at times. Even now, as he stares down a difficult diagnosis and an arduous journey, he says that he’ll go through the treatment and be better on the other side. He’s been through cancer before, so he’ll get through it again.
He’s always been a calming presence, the person to call when you’re in a moral dilemma. I’ve always wanted to be like him, so much so that I followed in his footsteps in university — though now I’m diverting from that path a little bit.
But that doesn’t matter to him. He tells me he searches my name on The 麻豆社国产 website just to see what I’ve written. Though he’s thousands of miles away, he tells me about the news in B.C. as if it was happening in his backyard, not mine.
And partially, that’s why I’m writing about him now. Because I want him to know that everything he’s done in his life has reverberated to our tiny town huddled next to Howe Sound. Though he has lived for two decades among the corn and soybean crops, everything he’s done has made a difference much, much further away.
Perhaps nobody here knows him, but I assure you that everyone here can feel him. At the end of the day — among the hustle and bustle and perceived control over our lives and surroundings — maybe, just maybe, that’s what really matters the most.
Andrew Hughes is a son, 麻豆社国产resident, and this spring will be a UBC journalism graduate.
