We were supposed to have more time
My father passed away in April of this year -09-. He was sick and in the hospital for a while. At first the doctors told us that he would be out in a few days. Then it turned into more tests had to be run.
On the 18th, My brothers birthday, they told us that he had untreatable cancer. We were preparing to set up in-home hospice for him to get him out of the hospital. They wanted to do a lung biopsy on him and release him shortly after so that we could have the remainder of time together.
The biopsy punctured a hole in his lung that sent him into the ICU. He died a few hours later with us by his side. We still had not fully accepted that we would lose him to the cancer, but I certainly wasn't ready for it to be so soon.
Seven months later, I can't stop dreaming about him, or thinking about him all day. I miss him and want more time. I want to tell him that I am having another baby. He loved my daughter more than anything, he would be so happy about the new baby. Tomorrow is my birthday, the first one that he will not sing to me.