(Toronto, ON, Canada)
After 2 years of suffering from T-cell lymphoma, my father passed away February 23, 2014. He was diagnosed on my 19th birthday and died shortly before my 21st. The loss of my father is almost crippling. He died 3 months ago and I still am in shock. Some days are better than others. Others, I sit and I cry. He was my stepfather, but he raised me since I was a toddler. He taught me how to ride a bike, helped me with my math homework, and took me to the amusement park every day in the summers even when he worked night shifts. My childhood was honestly perfect. My biological father never cared for me, while my stepfather (I never even called him that- he has been 'Dad' to me since I was a child) raised me like his own child, even though he was about 22 when he met my mom and started taking care of me. My dad was an angel on this earth - he was too good for us. He didn't want to leave us. It wasn't his time. He was only 40 when he was taken from this earth. It's unbelievably cruel that he did not get to finish his work here on earth, because I believe he wasn't done. I always considered myself an atheist,but now, after his death, I can't imagine a world where he did not get the rest and eternal life that religion promises him after death, since for the last 2 years in his life he found no rest or respite from the cancer and chemotherapy. I just miss him more than anything in the world. I hope one day, when my time has come, that I will see him again. I love you forever, daddy. Always.