At a mere 47 years old, my father was taken from me. It was my freshman year of college, move in day, when I got the call. Before I left him that same day, he was in rough shape. I sat next to him in bed and told him how much I loved him and how I was going to make him proud, and that I would see him again soon. Little did I know that those would be my last words to my father.
For months I watched my dad’s brain tumor eat away at him, and it killed me to see the strongest man I ever knew waste away to nothing. Because of my father’s brain tumor, I will now be cheated out of so many experiences in my life. Who will walk me down the aisle? What do I say to my kids when they ask about their grandfather?
I’m immensely grateful for the time I spent with my dad, but his tumor took his life, and left a huge hole in my heart.