A Little Bit on my Father

October 16, 2014

Death.

It will either make you bitter or better or just plain fucking miserable. And for once I have no grasp on this. I feel like I’m stuck in this bizarre, nonexistent realm. Wake me up when it’s all over.

A little bit on my father. . .

At the age of 36, my father was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor. I was 12 years old at the time. A few months later he underwent a gruesome surgery which altered his entire life. My memories of him are in a hospital, in his bed and his favorite corner chair in our dining room.

We all watched him sicken over the years. This brain tumor sucked the life out of him and just compiled more health problems. His body wasn’t his body anymore, his movements slowed down, his eyesight was minimal but I have never loved or respected a stronger man. He was strong. Not in a physical sense but in a spiritual, mindful way. He remained this way until his very last breath.

His eyesight deteriorated over the years and every single day was a struggle for him. He never wanted any pity from anyone. He wanted to tend for himself. Even if he spilled every drop of milk on the counter, he was going to find a way to pour that milk into that glass himself. And this constantly got him in trouble. It seemed foolish then but now that he’s gone I find it quite admirable. And I miss this. I miss cleaning after him.

My father loved to whistle. When we’d get into an argument, he’d cut me off and start whistling. It triggered every nerve in my body. But do you know what I would give to hear that melody again?

I could go on and on and on. . .

I don’t know what to feel right now. And I don’t know how to feel about this. It fucking sucks.

But even though some days are unkinder than others, I know HE would want me to better myself over all. He is now in every step I take and every single heart beat. I wouldn’t be my father’s daughter if I didn’t pick myself up and carry on. He fell into a deep slumber in which he never awakened from. It was quiet and peaceful and filled with serenity. He is finally free from all the pain.

Dad,

Years will come and go, a lifetime perhaps, but you’ll always be my daddy.

I love you with all my heart.

Sincerely,
Your daughter,

Perla Quintana

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