I lost my dad fifteen years ago. He was my best friend—the kind of guy I could go to with anything when I was twenty-three, someone I truly looked up to. He was gone in just three days. He just vanished, and my whole world basically collapsed. It was just my mom, my younger sister, and me left behind. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he was gone back then, and honestly, I don't know if I can even process it now, fifteen years later. My mom stepped up as the head of the family, taking all the daily burdens onto her shoulders, and I guess that’s how we managed to keep going.
Since then, I’ve started a family of my own. I have three beautiful little girls who are my absolute world, and I love their mother—my wife is my biggest support and my rock.
Then, about a month and a half ago, I found out my dear mom wasn't feeling well. After seeing a doctor, she was rushed to the hospital, where she passed away after five days. The doctors say it was advanced colon cancer, but I still can't wrap my mind around it. How does someone walk into a hospital on their own two feet, have a routine checkup, and then suddenly they can't even walk or breathe on their own, only to pass away a few days later?
But none of that really matters anymore. She's gone, and since then, I've been in this sort of haze. I’m not functioning; I can barely get out of bed, and for the last month, I’ve been sleeping maybe two hours a night at most. If it weren't for my family, I probably wouldn't know what to do with myself, but I can't fall apart because of them. Life is just one big, senseless joke right now, and nothing seems to make any sense at all.
Since then, I’ve started a family of my own. I have three beautiful little girls who are my absolute world, and I love their mother—my wife is my biggest support and my rock.
Then, about a month and a half ago, I found out my dear mom wasn't feeling well. After seeing a doctor, she was rushed to the hospital, where she passed away after five days. The doctors say it was advanced colon cancer, but I still can't wrap my mind around it. How does someone walk into a hospital on their own two feet, have a routine checkup, and then suddenly they can't even walk or breathe on their own, only to pass away a few days later?
But none of that really matters anymore. She's gone, and since then, I've been in this sort of haze. I’m not functioning; I can barely get out of bed, and for the last month, I’ve been sleeping maybe two hours a night at most. If it weren't for my family, I probably wouldn't know what to do with myself, but I can't fall apart because of them. Life is just one big, senseless joke right now, and nothing seems to make any sense at all.