Cancer2NONE

Dedication

For my father, Joe Zicchino.

The kindest man I have ever known.

When I was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer, certainty disappeared. The future narrowed into

scans, statistics, and waiting rooms. Strength became something different than I had imagined. It

was no longer about control. It was about grace.

And when I think about grace, I think about you.

Long before cancer entered my life, you had already shaped the man I would become. When

Mom and you divorced, I was five years old. I lived mostly with her, and I saw you every other

weekend. I counted the days until I could be with you. Those weekends were more than visits —

they were anchors. In the time we shared, you made me feel steady. Safe. Important.

You never raised your voice.

You never led with anger.

You led with kindness.

That kindness became the foundation of my life. And when cancer came for me, it was that

foundation that held.

When your own health began to decline, we brought you home to Florida so we could care for

you. For six months we moved between emergency rooms, doctors, and rehab visits — juggling

uncertainty on both sides of the diagnosis. I was fighting Stage IV cancer. You were fighting your

own battle. And in the middle of it all, there was still love.

I told you we would write Cancer2NONE together. I even made a cover with your name, mine,

and Melissa’s. In many ways, we did write it together. Not with equal chapters — but with

shared courage. The resilience in these pages is not just mine. It is yours. It is what you modeled

for me long before I ever needed it.

You passed peacefully in our home. That peace was not accidental. It was the result of a life lived

gently. A life that never confused strength with hardness.

Your last gift to me — a photograph of us when I was about four years old, with your

handwritten note on the back — sits close to my heart. It is small. Simple. Sacred. When I hold

it, I remember who I was before fear, before responsibility, before diagnosis. I remember being

your son.

And now, as a father myself, I see your legacy continuing. Joel, our oldest, was once featured in

a district-wide publication for his kindness. When I read that, I didn’t just feel pride. I felt

continuity. Your kindness passed through me and into my children. It is a living inheritance.

Even today, I meet people who knew you decades ago, and they all say the same thing:

“He was so kind.”

That is your monument.

Cancer may have entered our family story. It may have changed timelines and plans. But it did

not — and could not — erase what you gave us.

This book is about resilience. About agency. About reclaiming participation when control

disappears. And if I have learned how to face adversity without becoming bitter, it is because I

watched you live without bitterness first.

You taught me that strength can be quiet.

That love can be steady.

That kindness can outlast anything.

Dad, Cancer2NONE is dedicated to you.

Not because cancer defined us —

but because kindness did.

Your life shaped mine.

My life shapes my children’s.

And through that, you are still here.

With love always,

Your son.