July 28, 2018 around 5:00 pm my dad waited until my brothers and I left the hospice room to take his last breath. That was my dad for you: always felt the need to protect his kids even until his final breath. He was surrounded by his closest friends (friends that have been around since he and my mom got married), his wife, and my brother's girlfriend, Aimee. They were praying the last decade of the rosary when he slipped away and became our guardian angel. A year later and I still replay the moment that Aimee called me to come back into the room. A year later and I still believe that when I wake up my dad will be waiting for me in the kitchen with a hot cup of coffee. A year later and it doesn't even feel like a minute has passed by without him.

It has been three hundred and sixty five days since I last hugged my dad. 8,760 hours of breath-taking grief and reminiscing on memories. It was traumatic to watch him deteriorate before our eyes because that's what happens with a terminal illness sentence: you see your loved one painfully melt away. It was even more traumatic to bury him. And the worst and most traumatic of it all - learning to live this life without him. To put it simply: this past year without my dad sucked. Life hasn't been as joyous, the laughter was flat, and the days felt like nights. Just when I thought I was through one stage of grief, it would recycle and start all over again. Everything was, "this time last year, I had my dad" or "the last time I was in this restaurant, he was with us...". I couldn't remember if it was a Monday, I only knew that it had been 10 days without my dad. I wasn't approaching February, I was approaching 7 months without my dad. I could only recognize that it was however many days, weeks, or months without my dad. As a coping mechanism, I began to hate him and everything else that went along with him.

365 days of hating you

I hate that you loved me so much that my heart aches to fill the missing space. [ which I quickly realized can never be refilled ]

I hate that you respected and viewed me with the least judging eyes because I walk around thinking everyone is like that.

I hate that you loved my mother with every ounce of your being because I search for that same love and nothing compares.

I hate that you were my best friend because now you're gone.

I hate that you made me laugh even when I was pissed because now, I'm just pissed.

I hate that your hugs were the best part of my day because now I hate hugs.

I hate that you filled our home with love and laughter because it feels empty and quiet now.

I hate that you had the best smelling cologne because I can't stand that smell anymore.

I hate that you had cuff links for every suit because now they sit there collecting dust.

I hate that you picked up every single phone call no matter the topic of conversation because now I just stare at my phone confused on who to call.

I hate that you gave the best advice because now we're all a little lost.

I hate that your happiness was everything to me because even when the whole world is happy with me, it still feels like something is missing.

I hate that you made a permanent mark on my life because I remember you every step of the way and it takes my
breath away.

I hate that you were a dedicated father because now I have so many memories that my mind can't stop replaying them.

I hate that you told me to stay strong because all I want to do is give up.

I hate that you never complained during treatments because you left a high standard for pain tolerance and faith.

I hate that you helped our friends with their marriages and weddings because my brothers and I won't ever get that chance.

I hate that I love you so much because it physically hurts.

I hate that you made me feel safe and protected because now I feel like I'm walking on a tightrope with no safety net.

I hate that I'm finally doing things in life that you preached for me to do but you aren't here to see it.

I hate that big moments are happening and I can't see your face in the crowd.

I hate that you treated everyone in a Christ-like way because now I want to follow in your footsteps and it's a little too hard for me.

I hate that I can't take my anger out on people because you raised me better than that.

And most of all, I hate that you made it so hard to live without you.

It's a daily battle: wishing I didn't love my dad as much because of how painful it is to miss such a great person. Because, my gosh...it is so difficult to live without someone you love. I wish he wasn't the best dad any kid could ask for but he was (is). He wasn't just the best to us, he was the best to everyone he came in contact with. Whether it's going to church or the market, someone always comes up to us and expresses how much they miss him and how important he was (is) in their lives. So the pain felt is worth it, at the end of the day, because that means my dad’s presence was so monumental that grieving is our last act of love and honor to him. It means my dad left a mark within our lives that no distance, no death, and no time can take away from it.

Never thought I'd say this but - I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. The immense physical, emotional, and mental pain that my dad went through because of cancer, the heartache that my mom goes through because she didn't get to grow old with my dad, and the sadness from my brothers & I is something I would never wish on anyone. I would hate to know that another family has to go through what our family experienced/is experiencing. The doctor appointments where they are shooting out percentages and intimidating words about cancer and tumors. The countless MRIs, scans, and biopsies. To watch your loved one struggle to eat food, drink water, and to breathe. Looking at an empty chair, an empty closet, and an empty side of the bed. It's unbearable at times.

My dad used to tell me to find the light in every situation so I've looked closely into this grieving process and new reality of mine and found one positive thing: I keep learning new things about my dad. I learned that when my mom and dad first got married, my mom didn't want to eat her MIL's food. So my dad would wait until his mom turned around to eat off of her plate to help his newly wife out {I guess you can say he always had her back since day 1}. I learned that he would go to church after every chemotherapy appointment for adoration. I learned that when doctors told him there was no hope in another round of immunotherapy, my dad replied, "I have 4 reasons for hope: my wife, my two sons, and my daughter". I learned that my dad helped a married couple through their engagement year and now they are going on 20+ happy years of marriage. I always knew my dad was such a beautiful person, I just didn't know how many lives he touched and helped other than our immediate family. People say my dad must be proud of me but the honor is ALL mine. I'm insanely proud and beyond blessed to call him my dad. Heaven is a brighter place now that it has my dad in it and I can say that without a doubt in my mind. That's what makes me so proud to call him my father: he made Earth a better place and now he is doing the same in Heaven.