My dad is leaving us, leaving his body, his pain, his sickness.
How long has it been since he was diagnosed? Is it three years?
Life is unfair. He is a good dad, a good provider, and a workaholic.
I remembered him working a lot when I was little, well, we were constantly short of money. But we were well fed, maybe we didn't get all the toys that we wanted, we had a decent childhood.
Why do good people die in such horrific way? Slowly wasting away with a horrible disease that you cannot control, knowing that day is going to strike any day, knowing that you still have unfinished business, leaving your love ones behind.
How does it feel like to know that you are dying? Just snub out like a candle.
My dad is my creator; he gave me life and love.
I love my dad. I admire my dad.
He is very smart and hard-working, with so little education and so little to start with. He had a good life; he had accomplished a lot.
It feels like a really bad dream. I feel dazed.
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