A part of me went with him
On December 26, 2013, my family learned that my father’s cancer had returned.
Dad had battled a number of things, strokes, cancer, heart surgery but he always bounced back.
He was a fighter.
He tried the xeloda, it didn’t work. We then found out the cancer had spread from his colon to the liver and throughout his body.
When the Dr said “Aprox 6 months”, my heart & world just shattered.
Dad lost his battle on May 24, 2014.
My father was and always will be my hero, my rock, the greatest man I have ever known.
Dad was previously married before he met my mother. His first wife died at the young age of 40 after losing her battle to breast cancer, leaving behind Dad & 3 small children.
My parents divorced when I was 15. I originally went with my Mother but after 2 weeks, I was back with Dad.
At 16 I became pregnant & it was also around that time, my mother decided to move to NC from NY.
My daughter & I stayed with my father. He was our rock, our protector. He made sure we were ok. Our worlds were safe because he was in it.
Losing him was always my biggest fear.
And now here I am, without him.
Falling apart isn’t an option. He wouldn’t want that. He would want me to be happy, to continue on. To be a fighter just like he was.
As all of you already know, when you lose someone so close to you, you lose a part of yourself.
There is no doubt that the day Dad died a part of me did as well.
I try to find comfort in knowing that I have absolutely zero regrets. I try to remind myself that he is no longer suffering. I am so grateful that I got to have 37 years with him & my daughter 19.
He told me the day before he died that he would be gone within 24 hours and he was.
So much of who I am is because of him. From my sarcastic personality to my belief in loyalty & family.
Words alone could never fully express my pain.
But nothing, not even cancer can take away our memories.