Dear Daddy

A Story by Emma (:

The day from what I can remember, seems just a blur. I recall Mum mentioning the lumps on your neck, but you wouldn’t listen, stubborn some people would say. But I knew in my heart, that you just wanted to look after us, you were petrified it was all going to change. And you were right as always, though you hated it to be true, and when you went to the hospital they confirmed your worst fears. We were devastated. The man, who had always been such a fighter, had been diagnosed with this deadly disease. I know I wasn’t there for you Dad, but the truth is, I was terrified of seeing my cocky, wind-up merchant of a father, lying in a hospital bed, as pale as the winter snow, not knowing what the future had in store for him. When you had your first chemotherapy session, I came into Cheltenham hospital, it felt like my heart had broken into tiny pieces, and they were scattered all over the ground. I walked into your ward, praying I would see the same Dad I had before. But as I looked at you, I saw a helpless old man, gazing around the four walls frantically, not knowing what to do. I’ll be truthful; I wanted to sprint out of that ward, crying my eyes out, but I couldn’t move, my eyes were fixed on this weak, groggy man who still had the glimmer of that cheeky smile on his face, as you looked right into my eyes. I sat down in that humid room and you complained that you were cold, I tried putting the covers over you, but it was useless. Seeing you lying there shaking like a leaf, made me think; you’re not always going to be around to sort my problems. I didn’t think you were going to make it, and when I got home I just went to my room and sobbed my heart out. I don’t think I had the slightest bit of faith in you surviving, I tried to imagine my life without you, but I couldn’t. It was like imagining a dull, black hole for eternity. I know it didn’t help, all the mistakes I made, but it made me stop thinking about the image in my head; that horrible ward, and your sad, lonely face. I’d toss and turn all night, wondering whether you were still alive every second of the day. A few months past in a blur, and you miraculously improved, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up, normally when I do this, I just get crushed. Then you were allowed home, and it was amazing, you were groggy, grumpy and there wasn’t a wisp of hair on you, but it was the happiest I’d seen you for months. That was good enough for me. Then, we were all over the moon to hear you were in remission, and suddenly I felt guilty for feeling there was no hope for you. And now Dad, I know you may not have long left, but I’ve vowed to make you proud for the rest of your days.