Sydney Morning Herald - Latest News
· collected 2026-09-05 · by Amy Molloy
My older sister and I have a mental list of the places we’ve stood when she’s called to tell me, “Dad has cancer.”
asserted
Dad → have → cancer
We’ve laughed about it, in the way you do when life has shown you so much darkness, and there is no other option.
asserted
life → laugh → darkness
The first time, I was a teenager at a theme park, queuing for a rollercoaster.
asserted
I → queue → rollercoaster
Two years later, when it spectacularly recurred, I was on my way to a university lecture, while my sister was on a ferry.
asserted
sister → recur → ferry
My dad had woken up unable to walk; a tumour had been discovered around the base of his spine.
asserted
tumour → wake → spine
We’re the lucky ones.
asserted
We → ’re → ?
After Dad endured years of gruelling chemo and a stem-cell transplant which, 20 years ago, was ground-breaking, our family has been gifted decades of “bonus” time, once unimaginable when his stage four non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma was first diagnosed.
asserted
lymphoma → endure → time
Now 70, Dad has watched us get married and welcomed the birth of my three children.
asserted
us → watch → children
His three-monthly scans became six-monthly, then yearly – so normal, I stopped worrying about them at all.
asserted
I → become → them
That is, until November 2025, when my sister and I added a new location to our list.
asserted
sister → add → list
This time, I was standing in the clutter of my garage at 5am; with the time difference between the UK and Australia, I knew my dad would have received his scan results by then.
asserted
dad → stand → results
As my kids slept, I had snuck out of the house and messaged my sister: “I’m ready.”
asserted
I → sleep → sister
I wasn’t ready, of course, even though I suspected what was coming.
asserted
what → suspect → course
On this occasion, there were two differences in our conversation: a “new” type of cancer – myelodysplastic syndrome (MDS), which can be caused by intense chemotherapy – and my actual geographic location.
asserted
which → be → chemotherapy
Raised in the UK, I immigrated to Australia nearly 15 years ago.
asserted
I → raise → Australia
My sister lives a few hours’ drive from our parents’ home on the outskirts of London; I live 17,000 kilometres away, a 24-hour plane ride.
asserted
I → live → London
According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics, 8.8 million people living in Australia were born overseas – 32 per cent of the population.
uncertain
people → accord → population
That’s a lot of people living apart from their families.
asserted
That → ’ → families
Every immigrant has run the “cost analysis” in their head.
asserted
immigrant → run → head
In the NSW South Coast town where I’m based, I live the Aussie dream: surfing before school with my kids, writing in cafes by the beach, earning a wage that felt impossible in England.
asserted
that → base → England
But after a certain age, the downsides sharpen.
asserted
downsides → sharpen → age
In my 30s, expat friends started moving back to their home countries to raise their kids.
asserted
friends → start → kids
In my 40s, British mates started buying one-way tickets back to be closer to ageing parents.
asserted
mates → start → parents
I’ve always known that, if my dad got sick again, moving back to the UK wasn’t an option.
asserted
moving → know → UK
And then there are people, like me, who stay.
asserted
who → be → me
As my dad’s news sank in, I found myself Googling “How to be a long-distance carer” at 2am – and discovering I’m far from the only one asking.
asserted
I → sink → one
The question is: if you choose to stay in your “chosen” life while a loved one fights to survive, how do you help – without hating yourself for not doing more?
asserted
you → choose → more
I’ve always known that, if my dad got sick again, moving back to the UK wasn’t an option.
asserted
moving → know → UK
My kids are settled at school; my surf-obsessed husband wouldn’t cope; the cost of living is lower here.
asserted
cost → settle → living
But really, it’s because I’m scared of being too close – and I suspect my dad shares that fear.
asserted
dad → ’ → fear
During our first rodeo with cancer, I wanted to do everything – to meet Dad’s little buddy in “chemo club”, to learn the alphabet of drugs he was taking, to disinfect every surface.
asserted
he → want → surface
Adrenaline and the novelty of fresh trauma carried me – until months became years.
asserted
months → carry → me
Unlike my doting mum, who didn’t have the choice to leave, I did – and I needed to.
asserted
I → dot → choice
I was “sick” in my own way, with an eating disorder that had become my coping mechanism.
asserted
that → become → disorder
So, during a university summer break, I booked a flight to Sydney – a three-month trip that became a year, then a life choice.
asserted
that → book → Sydney
Dad tried to ease my guilt: “It’s easier when I don’t have to worry about you, too.”
asserted
I → try → you
Those well-meaning words became part of my identity.
asserted
words → mean → identity
Fast-forward to November 2025, and we both went through the motions again.
asserted
we → forward → motions
“I can come back,” I messaged him.
asserted
I → come → him
“It’s better you don’t,” he said, blaming his compromised immune system.
asserted
he → ’ → system
…and 39 more, not listed.
