My dad was the best father anyone could ask for. He had such a genuine love for his children that all five of us felt every day. He loved my mom in a way that all of us have strived to find in our own romantic lives. One of his proudest moments was becoming a Papa for the first time to his grand angel (as he called her) Grace. Even though I was the fifth child, he always made special "dad and Amanda" time.

Daddy was the kind of person who truly enjoyed life and loved being with his family. He also loved getting to know all of his children's friends, carting us around to the movies, basketball games, cheerleading, and even taking me and my girlfriends to Water Country and Busch Gardens every chance he could get. Ironically, it seemed like dad was more of a kid at those places than we were; he just loved it! He loved meeting new people. He made other people feel loved, as we could all see by the overwhelming love and support we experienced when he got sick. He was the best dad I could have ever asked for and I miss him every day.

My dad's family has a history of cancer; both of his parents died from colon cancer. My dad was very conscious of that and had regular colonoscopies and was an advocate for his own health. He had routine physicals and was physically fit, playing on an over 40 basketball league, organizing a family softball team (the "Z team") and running around our massive yard with a wheelbarrow full of God knows what! That was of course when he wasn't running down the street to scoop up one of his kids who had just fallen off a bike. Unfortunately the notion that all people with lung cancer are smokers may have been the reason he wasn't diagnosed earlier. Since dad wasn't and never had been a smoker, his routine physicals did not include chest x-rays. It was not until dad developed a nagging cough that he finally had a chest x-ray and his life changed forever.

I vividly remember the day dad was diagnosed. Mom had called to tell me what was happening, of course softening the situation so she didn't have a hysterical child driving down I-81. I was at Virginia Tech and she told me the doctor had found something in daddy's lungs and they needed to further investigate. I jumped in my car and came home. Our family is very close and we always want to be there for each other. Mom took him to the hospital for a biopsy while all of us sat in the waiting room for an eternity.

We didn't say much of anything to each other. I think we were all too scared and dazed since it was all happening so fast. I remember the smell of coffee and feeling cold as I always do in hospitals. I kept questioning how could dad be getting a biopsy for lung cancer. He wasn't a smoker and he just had a colonoscopy. If he did have cancer, why would it be manifesting itself in his lungs? How could we miss this? Eventually my mom, brothers and sisters, and I were ushered into a tiny, uninviting room. The doctor was very matter-of-fact when he told us that dad had lung cancer. He gave us some statistics about survival, uttered a few more words I could not for the life of me remember since everything seemed to go blank, and he left. We all collapsed.

In true "dad form" he was determined to beat it and told us that every day. He fought very hard to hide how horrible he was feeling and tried to continue with life as usual. Mom was amazing and she and dad sprung into action immediately. They were researching different hospitals all over the country and talking to specialists. Daddy was diagnosed with stage 4, non-small cell lung cancer. According to the American Association for Cancer Research, non-small cell lung cancer makes up about 80–90% of all lung cancer cases. Ultimately dad received the majority of his care in Boston, MA at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. In talking with specialists in our area, Hampton Roads, Virginia, we all thought dad would receive the best care if he ventured outside of Virginia and could be treated at a research institute.

When I look back, what sticks out in my mind is his determination. Dad and I would always take walks around our neighborhood and he was determined to do that as often as he could. Eventually the walks got shorter, but he insisted he wanted to do them; so we would walk and talk and laugh. Dad always told us how much he loved us and how proud he was of us. He could be feeling sick and exhausted and still find the energy to share stories and laugh with us. He wanted to stay so badly. One time he told my sister, "I've lived a great life sweetheart and I don't regret anything. I just wish I could stay a little longer."

I'm as guilty as anyone for blaming people for getting lung cancer as if they've brought it on willingly. Until my dad was diagnosed, I was ignorant to the staggering number of people who die every year from lung cancer who were never smokers. True, smoking can lead to lung cancer, but you don't have to smoke to get lung cancer. Nobody chooses where they are stricken with this nightmare.

The Race for Breath began in 2004 and takes place the first Saturday in November on the Virginia Beach oceanfront. It is a 5K run/walk with proceeds going to benefit lung cancer research. We were fortunate enough to have dad walk with us the first year it happened. He was so proud and excited to have us all working together as a team. That was always when dad was happiest, when we were all together. We have all participated in the race since the first year and have been fortunate enough to have different friends and family members there to join our fight.

The race is an incredible experience. There is a feeling of love and support throughout the crowd with people working together and supporting their loved ones. There is food, as well as music and warm-up exercises, but the best part is being with people who truly want to get the message out about lung cancer awareness. This year the race is November 1, 2008 at the Virginia Beach Oceanfront. Participants can register at http://www.raceforbreath.active.com and can also register in person on the day of the race.

In our case we were comforted by the presence of all of our family and friends. All of my aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends were so supportive and tried as hard as they could to try to comfort us. Personally, there were many times that I called friends and was unable to utter a word; they just knew I needed something and they were there. It is so meaningful to us when people talk about dad because, if only for a second, we feel like he's still here. I think that's the best you can do, just be there for people, and don't stray away from the subject because everyone knows that's what everyone is thinking about anyways. Give hugs and listen.

New treatments and clinical trials are taking place all over the world. I encourage people to do their research online and make phone calls to hospitals to find out which treatment option is best for them. Currently there are studies underway to identify genetic markers predisposing people to lung cancer and test lung cancer vaccines. My father participated in some clinical trials and would have participated in more. Through research and perseverance, I hope one day we will find a cure for lung cancer and all cancers.

I think people should care about all cancer, and be knowledgeable that lung cancer is not something that people deserve. I think that the stigma associated with lung cancer needs to be an issue that is addressed through the media. Perhaps if more people understood that not all people who have lung cancer "deserve" it because they smoke, there would be more money supporting research and clinical trials.

Also, as happened to my dad, lung cancer is often diagnosed late, which is associated with a poor prognosis for disease-free survival. People should learn about symptoms to watch out for to help avoid late diagnosis.

I'd like to tell people who are fighting lung cancer to continue fighting. There are always new developments and treatments being tested and, who knows, maybe one of them will be the one that works. I'd like to tell the loved ones supporting people living with lung cancer to live your lives together to the fullest. One thing my dad taught me through his life and his battle with cancer was to live life to the absolute fullest. I encourage you to do all of those things you've been putting off for another day and say all of the things you never have. Shower each other with love and support and don't give up.