Author Adelaide Green

When someone you love is dying it’s hard not to be afraid. Afraid for them. Afraid for those around them. Afraid for yourself. But I sometimes wonder if this is just a selfish thought? Especially if they’re suffering. Especially if they have suffered. No one deserves suffering, no thing deserves to suffer. So why would you want that for someone you love? Because you yourself are scared. Scared of what your life will be without them. Scared of dying yourself. Scared of the question is there really a heaven? Is there a god? Will i see them again? Being his daughter I am part of his legacy. Part of what he has left. But having him leave me feels like too much. I am his daughter through and through, stubborn, sarcastic, wide eyed and hopeful. I was hopeful he would defeat the odds, hopeful that cancer would not claim him, hopeful that his story, our story, our paths would not end here. I have known him my whole life. All of my 29 years he has been dad. And it’s crazy for me to think he’s only known me for 29 years of his life. As a child it’s hard to register that there was life before you, but with losing a parent there was never a life before them, just after. I’ll remember walking to the middle school with him, i ran laps while he walked around the track, I’ll remember looking for his face in the crowd at every soccer game, always being able to find it, I’ll always cherish the memory’s of him at my cross country meets, he would find a spot on the trail and sit and wait for me. He always stood away from all of the other parents, on a deserted part of the track and every race i looked forward to finding him. Our eyes would meet, he would give me his I’m proud smile with a small cheer and it always helped me find the strength to go further and faster. I remember when i was heartbroken and crying and he told me i wouldn’t feel that Way forever. That sometimes people are only meant to be part of our story but not the whole one. I wish i could still lay down next to him and have him tell me that one last time. I’ll ever forget him wasting more paper towels than anyone I’ve ever known because he wanted to throw balls up wet ones at my sisters and i. Or the prank phone calls he would make to his own sister. He has always been quick to laugh, quick to tell a joke, quick to smile. One of those people that always has a lingering smile twinkling in their eye. I can’t imagine anyone not immediately liking him. He was never a fan of crowds, much like me, but it never stopped him from being liked by everyone who met him. There is a saying that some people just have it, and whatever it is, my dad had so much of it.