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How Do You Tell Your Kids?

How do you tell your kids you have cancer?

These are my babies. The same girls who watched Ferris Bueller’s Day Off with me in a Ventura parking lot during the height of the pandemic. Who later flew to Chicago and stood with me in the Art Institute to recreate that iconic museum pose from the film. Moments like that are everything. They’re woven into who we are.

But this moment—telling your kids you have cancer—this was something else. One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

Father telling daughters about cancer diagnosis, emotional family moment

Telling Anya over FaceTime was brutal. There’s something about the screen, the distance—it makes it worse. She’s living in Florida now, working for Disney. When she started crying, I couldn’t hold her. Couldn’t comfort her the way a dad should. I’ll always be grateful that her boyfriend Matthew was there. He wrapped her in a hug while she broke down, and I’ll never forget that.

She flew out the following week to spend time with me here in California. We hugged, we laughed, we sat in silence. It meant everything. She’s strong. Both of my girls are.

Katie still lives at home. And I can see it in her eyes—the fear, the sadness, the uncertainty. I told her the only thing I knew to say: whatever you’re feeling is okay. If she’s scared, if she’s angry—even if she’s angry at me—that’s normal. If she needs space or time at Dan’s to clear her head, I understand. I support it. There’s no right way to process this.

Father telling daughters about cancer diagnosis, emotional family moment

This is what no one tells you about how to tell your kids you have cancer. There’s no script. No clean version. It’s messy and heartbreaking and human. And no matter how strong you try to be, it still hurts like hell.

And honestly? I think it’s going to be harder on them than it is on me. I’m already in “fight mode,” focused on appointments, treatments, and everything unknown.

But they’re the ones watching. Waiting. Hoping. Hurting.

Still, I know this: I raised two strong, intelligent, compassionate women. And they’ve found partners who love them deeply. That brings me peace. Because even in this storm, they are not alone.

And neither am I.

If you’re a parent facing a similar situation, the American Cancer Society has some helpful resources on how to talk to your kids about cancer.

Greg Baugher

Writer. Photographer. Cancer fighter. Lifelong storyteller. After years running a men’s lifestyle blog and launching a handcrafted candle brand, I’m now using this space to document a new kind of journey—navigating life with cancer while reflecting on the stories, moments, and people who’ve shaped me. You’ll find everything from raw reflections and dark humor to snapshots of joy and resilience. Welcome to the ride.

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2 Comments

  1. Sounds Like Your Starting Out with the Right Attitude, that’s Important, I know, Been there Myself, and Still Here👍❣️Also for My Family Members Unfortunately, and what Got Us All through It Was Family 💞 Plus it Helps to Have Great and Caring Doctors!!

    1. Thank you so much for your kind words and for being part of our extended circle of support. It really does mean the world to us. This whole thing has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but knowing that our family—near and far—is thinking of us and sending love makes it a little easier to carry. Please give my best to everyone, and thank you again for reaching out.

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