2008
One Last chance with my Father
I lost my Father to lung cancer on January 28, 2007. I worked from home to be with him right after he was diagnosed. Because of this he and I shared a lot of time sitting on the front porch, his “safe space,” and talking. The thing about hope is that sometimes it doesn’t let you say the things you want to. It felt like I knew we would lose my Dad as soon as he was diagnosed, but you don’t want to think that. You want to have hope that the person you love will pull through. That hope makes you avoid certain topics, and I don’t think anyone is comfortable talking about death.
However, if I was granted one more day with my Dad I would tell him that I am proud to be his daughter. I would tell him that I miss the conversations he and I shared that I could never really have with anyone else. I would reassure him that I will forever take care of my Mom and tell his granddaughter, Kaylee, stories about him every chance I get. I would tell my Dad that missing him has made me grow emotionally. Missing him has taught me to never take anyone for granted. Missing him has allowed me to see how strong I truly am.
We only get one shot at it. May I never forget that again.







I believe your Father knows your heart, Kelly. Be at peace.