Very very wholesome comment

When I was a little girl, I adored my dad. followed him everywhere, wanted to do everything he did. and I sure tried. he was never great at saying how he felt, but I always remember saying, I love you, daddy. and he always replied, “I love you, daughter.”

when I was a preteen, he had no idea what to do with me, and backed off hard. I was super awkward as a preteen/teenager, and our relationship was super rocky. we had a lot of hurtful exchanges, and I spent as little time at home as I could. in the summer of 2007, I wrote him a letter, telling him that the way he distanced himself from me was hurtful, and that I didn’t know how to deal with the harshness of our current relationship, but that I still loved him and wanted to try and move past our painful interactions and rebuild our relationship. he never responded to most of it, but told me he was sorry, and wanted to fix things, too.

that winter, he was diagnosed with stage four cancer. I moved home and took over household things, helping deal with doctors, physical therapists, and eventually hospice. my mom was (understandably) a mess, and I tried hard to hold it together for them. things were getting bad, he was fading hard. one night I went in to say goodnight to him, and in a wave of nostalgia, I said, “I love you, daddy.” he hadn’t spoken all day, his throat was dry, he was on massive doses of morphine, but he still whispered back to me, “I love you, daughter”.

he slipped into a coma that night, and never spoke an other word.


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