Happiness According to My Dad (A Former Pediatric Oncologist).
It’s 7am on a school day. The year could be 2005, but it also could be 2009. Childhood days seem long, but the years inevitably blend together.
I wake up in my hot pink zebra-themed bedroom, probably rocking my favorite Barbie pajamas. It takes a minute to crawl out from under my mountain of pillow pets. Smells of strawberry Pop-Tarts and waffles fill the house, and I bolt up, quickly sliding down the banister before my parents notice. From the kitchen, I hear my dad, cooking a scrambled egg for our (very spoiled) dachshund and singing along to Carly Simon.
“You’re so vain. You probably think this song is about you.”
Genius lyrics. The ultimate hype song. It’s impossible to walk into school notbelieving you’re hot stuff after listening to that kind of music. Every morning, my dad would groove along to those lyrics, and introduce me to songs by The Beatles, ABBA, and Elton John. The party would continue in the car as he drove me to elementary school, and although I didn’t know it at the time, those morning jam-sessions set me up for days of happiness and success.
Edward Pickens, my dad, is one of the happiest people I know. For years though, he also held one of the hardest and most heartbreaking jobs imaginable.
My dad has no idea how many kids’ lives he has saved. As a former pediatric hematologist oncologist, he lost count a long time ago. “It was always a team effort, though,” he insists. “I don’t want to make it seem like I saved their lives. I was just part of a team that helped them; it was the nurses who administered the chemotherapy.”
Although he will never take the credit, I will never forget the first time I learned about his impact. It was my first day at a new school, and one of my teachers pulled me aside. She hugged me tightly, as though she had known me all my life. “That hug was for your dad,” she told me. “Years ago, he saved my baby when nobody else knew what to do.”
The way my teacher looked at me and the gratitude she expressed has always stuck with me. I had never thought of my dad as a hero to the community before. With his black belt in Shaolin Kung Fu and love of adventure, I had always known that he was a cool dad. But like most children, after he dropped me off at school, I just accepted the fact that he went to work. I hadn’t deeply considered the greater effect of what exactly he did. In that moment, though, I realized the strength of my father’s impact.
When we think about the impacts of childhood cancer, we often (and rightfully) focus on the patients and their families. Their comfort and feelings should be everyone’s first priority. But working in such dark conditions undoubtedly affects the mental health of healthcare professionals. Although my dad no longer works in a hospital and is now in private practice, for years, he had to maintain a positive outlook on life while surrounded by tragedy.
Music was his answer, and it still is, today. The music is not “necessarily anything designed to be ‘inspirational,’’ he says. He just “appreciate[s] good talent. Good melodies and strong lyrics make [him] happy.”
Whenever I hear “You’re so Vain,” or “Here Comes The Sun” or “Bennie And The Jets,” I’m transported back to the days of dancing in the kitchen with my dad. I can’t go back to the simple days of my childhood, but listening to Carly Simon is a very close second. So why not incorporate that into my life more often?
So, I hereby present the happiest playlist to exist. These were the songs of my childhood, the staples of my dad’s playlist. For the next few days, while walking to class or hitting the gym, this is what I’ll be listening to. These songs smell like strawberry Pop-Tarts and taste like waffles. To me, they feel like love. Listen to them once, and you’ll feel like the coolest kid in elementary school, ready to take on the day.