Papa:

You inspired me.

On Saturday, the day before you left, I was sitting in the room, on the chair next to you. I was holding your hand and smiling because I knew how much I cared for you. And when I was there, all I wanted to do was say something, but I just couldn’t find my voice. So I watched you and smiled and touched your skin. My sister sat on the other side of you and talked to you about school and other things. I sat there speechless. I didn’t want to say what was on my mind cause I didn’t know how. So I held your hand. Then she said something, she told you she loved you, and you, worn out and tired, dry and sick, you took a deep breath and used all of your energy to say back “I love you too.” And that was it for me. I thought I could hold it together. I couldn’t. I gently let go of your hand and I walked out of the room. I walked quickly, because no one should see. I ran through the kitchen, hoping to draw no attention. I was unsuccessful.

When I was in the room where my sister slept, I laid on the bed and cried. I wept. I hurt so much. I wasn’t ready and you didn’t want to go.

Aunt Val came in and she told me that I shouldn’t cry alone. And she held me in her arms and rocked me back and forth like a baby. I hurt.

And today, I miss you. Because I just want to look into my inbox and see a letter from you. I want to talk to you on the phone. I want to see your silly text messages. I want to hear your beautiful voice. But I can’t. And I just hope you heard me sing to you before you left.

I love you Papa.