When Cancer Comes Home: A Son’s Journey Through Grief, Faith, and Final Goodbyes
A caregiver-pastor reflects on the painful yet sacred journey of losing both parents to brain tumors, and how faith sustained him through the storm.
By Reynante M. Trinidad
Both of my parents passed away at the same age—68 years old—just one year apart. And both were taken by the same painful cause: brain tumors.
My father died on March 31, 2020, after being diagnosed in August 2019 with glioblastoma—an aggressive brain tumor that progressed faster than we could comprehend. It came suddenly. It advanced rapidly. It changed everything. And even as we prayed and hoped, the tumor kept growing. He didn’t complain much—only that he was becoming forgetful and that his mood and behavior were changing.
Then, on May 12, 2021—just one day before my father’s birthday—my mother also passed away.
But even before we discovered my father’s condition, we had already been watching my mother slowly decline. Looking back, it’s clear her brain tumor had been developing for years. Despite regular doctor visits and medication, she often complained of knee pain, poor balance, and leg weakness. Each time, the doctors gave the same answer: arthritis.
But something deeper was at work. Something unseen. Something silent. Something deadly.
Later, we discovered the truth: a tumor was growing at the back of her head. By the time it was found, the damage was already significant. Her lower extremities had severely weakened. She could no longer walk or stand without difficulty. We wished we had asked for more tests sooner. We wished the doctors had looked beyond the surface. But hindsight often arrives wrapped in heartbreak.
Cancer had come home—and not once, but twice.
As a son, it crushed me. As a caregiver, I tried to stay strong. As a pastor, I clung to the promises of God—often with tears in my eyes.
A Personal Pain, A Shared Reality
It’s one thing to care for strangers facing terminal illness. It’s another when it’s your own parents.
I’ve stood beside many patients in palliative care. I’ve watched families say goodbye. I’ve offered prayers, comfort, and guidance in the darkest moments of life.
But this time, I wasn’t just the caregiver—I was the son. And I was learning that faith doesn’t remove the pain of loss; it gives you strength to walk through it.
Grief is not a lack of faith. Tears are not a sign of weakness. Even Jesus wept when Lazarus died—not because He lacked power, but because He deeply loved.
Grieving From a Distance
Both of my parents passed away during the COVID-19 pandemic. Both of them in the Philippines—while I was here in Canada.
I was far from home. I couldn’t be at their bedside. I couldn’t hold their hands. I couldn’t say goodbye the way I wished. Others cared for them during their final moments. And while I’m deeply grateful to those who stood in the gap, the ache of being away still lingers.
There’s a unique pain in grieving from a distance—in being the son who couldn’t come home, who watched from afar, who prayed through video calls, who cried in silence. I carried my sorrow alone on many nights, holding on to the only thing that could carry me—God’s unshakable presence.
A Pastor, A Son, A Final Tribute
I officiated both of their funerals… over Zoom.
As a pastor, I led the services. As a son, I held back tears while preaching hope. The experience was a mixture of deep sorrow and sacred celebration. It was not easy.
But I thank God—for the strength He gave me and our family. We knew they were no longer suffering. We knew exactly where they were: in the presence of the Lord.
Our faith in God, our belief in Jesus, helped us overcome the turmoil—not with bitterness, but with thanksgiving and praise. Because of His unfailing love. Because of His gift of eternal life.
What Cancer Taught Me
Life is fragile. No one is guaranteed tomorrow. Time is sacred. Every moment with our loved ones counts.
Faith doesn’t prevent suffering, but it anchors us in the storm. Hope in Christ is real. Heaven is not just a concept—it’s a promise.
My parents may no longer be with me, but I know they are with the Lord. Free from pain. Free from tumors. Free from the slow, cruel grip of disease.
I still miss them. I still cry. But I still believe. Because death is not the end of the story for those in Christ.
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” — Psalm 34:18
To Those Who Are Grieving…
If you’re watching someone you love decline… If cancer has entered your home… If you’re grieving across oceans and borders, like I was… If you’re a pastor or caregiver trying to be strong for others—even in your own storm…
Know this: You are not alone. God is near. He sees every tear. He understands every ache in your heart.
Whether you’re a caregiver, a son, a daughter, or a spouse—let your faith hold you, even when your strength is gone.
Cry when you need to. Pray when you can. And trust that God is faithful—even in loss.
Prayer for the Grieving
Heavenly Father, Thank You for being close to the brokenhearted. Thank You for the hope we have in Christ—that death is not the end, and love never fails. Comfort every person reading this today. Wrap them in Your peace, hold them in their sorrow, and remind them they are never alone. In Jesus’ name, amen.
