November 13, 2007
By Anonymous

My dad, he was a great person before he died. And he still is. We had some great times together. I was only 9 years old in the fourth grade. It was a really hard time for my whole family and I.

It all started not much sooner than when my family and I, moved into our new house. We had such a nice house and it was so big. We never thought of the terrible loss we were going to suffer. We had so many boxes to move. My dad was the only ones who were moving most of the boxes. Took us a couple of days, even weeks to move in the rest of the boxes.
His back started to hurt and we took him to the doctors. We took him to the doctors to see what could be wrong with his back. We thought that he just pulled his back from all the boxes he moved. “But we never knew how worse the situation was”.
We kept taking him back and fourth to the doctors. They finally took him for cat scans to see how ad the situation was getting. They saw something weird activity going on in his back, so they finally realized that this was finally out of their hands and they moved him to St. Johns hospital further down town. The ride to the hospital would be about 40-60 minutes long from my house to the hospital.
When he was finally diagnosed with kidney cancer we were all heart broken and so sad. We would all agree that no mater how hard the situation would get down the road, we would all be in this together until the end. We were all so torn apart. I had a strange felling and a strange reason that he would not make it. I wasn’t trying to be negative, but I guess that it was my first time experiencing something this big with something this big of a loss if the treatment didn’t work. Also watching something this pain full to someone I really love. Every night till the day he died I would always pray and try to never loose hope.
One of the other days I went to the hospital to visit my dad we were told that he was resaved with this really good medicine that would help him fight the cancer. Then I had some of my faith restored that my dad would have a fighting chance of living. And I would never stop praying no matter how much better he got. Actually I prayed even more.

After weeks and weeks of praying and treatment he was actually home. I remember how happy everyone was and how happy my dog was. I know, a dog being happy that his owner is back is weird but he has feelings too. I could tell that my dog (Tucker) was feeling his own pain. When I went to bed I was so happy and prayed that “I’m so happy my dad is home. Thank you.” I actually thought that everything was going to be ok.

The next morning I woke up and thought to myself, “where’s dad”. And I say grandpa and was wondering why is he here? Also where my mom was? I was wondering, could the worst be happening? How could this be? When it was later in the day we finally went to the hospital and I was so worried about my dad. Everyone had a sad look on his or her faces. First they sat me down and told me what was going on. They said that there was some kind of fluid in his lungs that was caused by the cancer. I thought that could be the worst part, but I guessed not. They finally broke the horrible news that my dad was dying and there is no longer any cure. There was only time, time that we could spend with each other. From that day on we went to the hospital to give my dad comfort, support, and love.

Not many weeks after that we got the horrible news that my dad had passed away. I also remember for some strange reason I felt responsible for his death. I was also mad at God for taking a great person in me and my families’ life. I cried for most of the night and for most of the following week. My family and I cried so much for that, our amount of tears were like a waterfall. But then I really got to thinking. I thought that even know he’s gone he’s in a better place with no more pain.

In a way I’m kind of happy for my dad that he moved on because, even if he did survive he would have had to be in a wheel chair for the rest of his life because the cancer had caused so much damage in his back. So in a way I’m glad that he has no more pain and suffering.

This experience has made me a stronger person each and every day since the day of the horrible loss my family and I had shared. I remember all the good times we had, and I try to focus on all the good times we had before he had passed on. Are bond was and still is as strong as steal. Maybe even stronger.

And that is why to me it is important to care and spend as much time with the people you love. And to cherish and care about everything and everyone with and around you before it’s gone.

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