8 weeks and 6 days

On Thursday July 17, 2008 at 9:10am my father lost his battle with cancer. He passed away at home surrounded by his family. My mother, sister, brother in law, brother, sister in law, myself and my Uncle and Aunt were at his side.

On May 23 my father was given 4-6 months. Just 8 weeks and 6 days later his courageous fight was over. In a previous post I had talked about my dad and the rough few years he had. He never gave up hope, even through his last days. His well known sense of humor never faltered. His concern for everyone but himself never ceased.

I feel blessed to have been able to spend every day of the last few weeks spending time with my father. Some days were better than others, but the time we spent together was invaluable. No more than 5 minutes went by before my father would say another "I love you" or "Take care of yourself". My father was so proud of his family and his grandchildren. We were his world and he made sure we knew it. There is always going to be something more I wish I could have told my dad. As I write this, fighting back the tears, I tell myself "It's okay to cry because my dad knew it all". He knew how much we loved him and how he meant the world to us.

Sunday, July 20, was my fathers service and burial. It was the hardest day of my life. It doesn't seem right to say it was a beautiful service. How can a funeral be beautiful? It was however, a tribute to my father. My brother, brother-in-law, myself and my parents closest friends eulogized my dad. The family and friends who filled the chapel was a mere representation of the lives he touched. Even if you met my dad once, you had an instant friend.

On behalf of my family I want to thank everyone for their words of comfort and support at this difficult time in our lives.

"If love could have saved you dad, you would have lived forever."