8 and a half years of cancer
My father was a very stoic man. He never talked about his woes and he never spoke badly about anybody. He was diagnosed with cancer when I was 13 years old and I had only very recently moved across the country to live with my mother because they divorced and mum remarried. 6 months after I moved I was missing my dad very much (I lived with him my entire life until this point) and I got a phone call saying his tumor is closing off arteries and he very nearly died. He went through multiple rounds of radio, chemo, open heart surgery, biopsies, and the rest. He went into remission for about 2-3 years but then it came back in other parts of his body and it slowly moved to his liver and became inoperable. He had so much radiation it literally fried his lungs and other organs and he became very sick all the time.
All the while I only saw him every chance I could to fly over and see him. We spoke on the phone very regularly.
The last time I got to see my father (alive), it was the 25th of September 2013. My 21st birthday.
I knew at that moment that I hugged him goodbye and he was flying back home that something wasn't right.. It was the last time I was ever going to see him.
On march 22nd 2014, while I was on the plane in an emergency to go see him as he was in hospital and wasn't doing well, he passed away.
I never got to say goodbye. It just happened.
Nothing you can ever say or think or do will prepare you for the death of a parent. I knew how sick he was (although he never told us) but it just never sunk in.
I keep thinking I can call him and tell him about this new song I learnt on guitar or the gigs I'd done or he could tell me about his new toys and guitar pedals and computer hardware.. He loved his computer and his guitar a lot and we had a lot in common. For my 21st birthday he bought me a Maton guitar. It's the most beautiful thing I have and I will treasure it for the rest of my life.
I miss you so so so much dad...