You tried your best to prepare me for your death, but nothing could have prepared me for this agonizing pain. My heart hurts so much.
Despite how sick you were I still cannot believe you’re not here. You were not just my father, you were my best friend.
I know you are in heaven and I know you are with us. I know you can hear me. Thank you for all the beautiful fluffy white feathers. I wish I could glue them together and visit you. A few days after you died the entire row of lights on our street started blinking when I was walking Diesel. Diesel noticed too because he stopped in his tracks and we both just stared in awe. I see you in my dreams…you look healthy and strong again. Maryann saw a shooting star the night you died. I’m pretty sure I heard your voice the other day driving to work. Some guy cut me off, and I swear I hear you say “Careful all the aholes are out driving today.” Can you curse in heaven? You made me laugh. Thank you.
But I’m selfish and I miss you terribly.
My logical brain knows your suffering is gone and you are at peace.
I’m so angry. Not at you. I’m angry you died unable to eat. I’m angry that you endured so much pain and suffering. I’m angry that I never had the opportunity to take you to our favorite restaurant. Instead I hosted your repass luncheon there. This was not how I envisioned my father growing old, this was not how I imagined our family story ending.
I’m sure being the father of two girls was not an easy task. You were the first man we said “I love you” to and the first man to show us what unconditional love is. You showed us how a man should treat a woman by loving mom until your last breath and even in your death.
No one listens like you.
You told me when Grandma died we grieve for ourselves. You were right.
Remember when I was a teenager and told you my heart was broken? You laughed and told me that wasn’t a broken heart it was a bruised ego. Then you took me out for dinner. You were right.
You always said “if it’s not fatal it doesn’t matter” You were right.
Thank you for teaching me the value of family. Now that you’re gone I have precious memories to hold onto.
Thank you for taking countless hospital selfies with me. I’m sure taking a selfie in your hospital bed was the last thing you wanted to do. Those selfies are now my lifeline. Thank you.
We are approaching the 4 month anniversary of your death the pain is worse now than January 17th. You warned me about this, you told me to stay strong. I’m having a difficult time with that one. I’m trying my best.
A few days before you died you encouraged me to start writing again, I listened. I miss not having you here to edit my stories.
The National Foundation of Swallowing Disorders used your photo to launch national dysphasia awareness month in June. It was nice to see your smile in my newsfeed and email this morning. I keep praying someone finds a cure.
This week The Mighty published one of my articles. I shared it on our Facebook pages, the response has been spectacular. When We Overlook the Caregiver, is about Mom. You always told us how you were alive because of Mom. She’s having a tough time without you maybe you could send her a feather? I worry about her. I’m paralyzed with fear at the thought of losing her too. Please keep watching us.
I promise to keep your memory alive.
As long as I have breath in me I will be your living breathing legacy.
I promise to let the girls know that their Papa was a legend.