John & John
John’s dad passed away from pancreatic cancer in 2005. Twenty years later, John travelled all the way from Florida to run the London Marathon in honour of his dad. He tells us how he coped with his dad’s illness and death, and what motivated him to support Pancreatic Cancer UK.
Dad always had hope
2025 marks the 20th anniversary of my father and namesake passing away from pancreatic cancer.
My dad, John, was 58 when he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I can remember that at first he had been complaining about stomach pain and he and his doctors were not able to figure out the cause.
When he got his cancer diagnosis – particularly as he realized he was not a candidate for interventions like the Whipple procedure – he didn’t lose hope. Instead, he committed to “fighting like hell,” in his words. He wanted to pursue every reasonable option to give him more time with family and loved ones.
Support helped us cope with what was happening
At the time, my dad lived in Massachusetts and I was a graduate student in New York City. The physical distance proved difficult, and I spent a lot of time on the bus going back and forth from my home in New York to my dad’s home (or the hospital, when he was there). One of the things that helped my Dad cope was feeling like he wasn’t fighting alone. Sure, he had a committed team of medical professionals helping him, but he also surrounded himself with a loving network of family and friends. Similarly, I sought out my own network of friends to help me cope – or even just to take my mind off everything.
Dad wanted us to live life to the full
After his diagnosis, my dad also spent a lot of time talking about “his dash” and encouraging us to make the most of our dash. When he first mentioned this, I was confused – but he explained that we should all aim to make the most of that dash between the year we’re born and the year we die. He had always tried to live his life to the fullest and he was encouraging us to do the same.
Losing my dad was one of the most painful and disorienting experiences of my life. There’s no easy way to watch someone you love fade away, no preparation for the helplessness you feel when treatments don’t work and the days grow shorter. My dad had always been this steady, dependable presence in my life — full of quiet strength, wit, and deep love for his family. Watching cancer take that away from him, and from us, was devastating.
Coping with his illness meant trying to be strong when I felt anything but strong. It meant showing up for him and for the rest of my family while inside, I was unraveling. Some days I distracted myself with my graduate schoolwork – because that felt easier than facing the grief creeping in. Other days, I let myself cry in the quiet moments, unsure how the world could keep spinning normally when ours had changed so drastically.
Learning to live with grief
After he passed, the grief didn’t disappear — it just changed shape. It became something I carried with me every day. I still miss him deeply. Not just during big milestones, but in the small moments too — when I hear a song he loved, like “What A Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong, or when something funny happens and I instinctively think to tell him.
Time has softened the edges of the pain, but the ache of his absence never really goes away.
John ran the marathon in honour of his dad, in the city his dad loved
Deciding to run the TCS London Marathon for Pancreatic Cancer UK – and for my dad
I had been thinking that running the London Marathon would be a great way of honoring him – London was his favorite city in the world and one we were lucky to be able to experience with him time and again growing up, as we had family in the UK. But when I saw that the official TCS London Marathon charity in 2025 was Pancreatic Cancer UK, it felt all the more important and resonant. Almost like a nod from my dad that this is a race I’m meant to run.
To be honest, my dad would be surprised to hear I’m a runner… It was never something I did while he was alive. I only started running in 2006 (the year after he died) when I ran the NYC Marathon for a local charity and the hospital where he was treated, in his memory.
I felt there was no better way to honor my Dad on the 20th anniversary of his passing than by running through his favorite city, raising both awareness and crucial funds for pancreatic cancer research. Training for and running the London Marathon was one of the hardest things I’ll ever do in my life. But it’s something I felt like I needed to do. I ran London carrying my Dad in my heart… I’m thrilled I could do it while also helping a charity devoted to supporting those affected by pancreatic cancer.
John
June 2025
