Finale

Sigh.

Imagine that that wasn't a word, and an actual action.

Sigh.

Today is only Wednesday. For the last 48 hours, my mind has been a flurry of activity and it seems like it should already be October.

I guess I should explain why....

Have you ever read a book and noticed how some of the plot seemed to fit your life exactly? Better yet, have you ever experienced something and then realized that you had read a book where something similar had happened?

There are so many books about cancer victims, whether they be the main character, or their siblings or parents. Whether they survive...or die.

Well, the other day I posted about how my father was not doing well at all and that I was worried about him.

At approximately 8:05 yesterday morning, my father was sent to Paradise.

It's funny that no matter how many books I've read about this happening, the feeling still doesn't compare to this blow.

Six months ago, my father was healthy and happy.

Five months ago, he caught pneumonia.

Four months ago, that pneumonia caused cancer cells in his lymph nomes to travel to his lungs, turning into Stage 4 lymphoma. We were assured that everything was going to be OK. He would get chemo and it would be away and we could move on with our lives.

Four weeks ago, my father was doing better everyday. The cancer was shrinking according to the different scans. His breathing was getting better. He was going to survive.

Three weeks ago, he went to the hospital to get his lungs cleared. Still everything seemed fine. When he came home, however, he had a very hard time breathing on his own. But still the scans showed that the cancer was comparable and he was going to make it through.

A week ago, he went back to the hospital for breathing and his lungs. They took another scan and things were not well. On Sunday morning, we learned that he would not make it unless he took a very painful chemotherapy which might not even work. We decided on hospice care, hoping that he would improve a bit on his own, but ultimately knowing this was the beginning of the end.

Monday night, he was transported to hospice.

Tuesday morning, he was gone.

It all happened too quickly for any of us to process. I still can't even get used to the fact that this even happened.

But I think my father knew on Monday what was going to happen. We went to visit him at the hospital, and while he was very tired, he seemed to want to be with us. I held his hand for the first time in a very long while and we just couldn't let go. I also forget how many times we mouthed the words "I love you" to one another. We said good-bye, and that was it.

My father was a great man, and he inspired a lot of people. Practically everyone he's ever met has something good to say about him. He took care of his family fiercly.

He was my hero. I never got a chance to tell him this, but I know he knows.

My book that I'm currently working on getting published will be dedicated to him.

This is the story of how life is. Quick and crazy, but the choices we make along the way determine how the world remembers us. For my dad, it was as a good-natured hero.