Letter to my dad

 Dad,

     It's been a week since you passed away. A week since I heard you talk to me. A week since I saw you smile and held your hand. It still doesn't feel real. Every time I go over to your house, I still expect to see you sitting on your spot on the couch or to hear you call me from the next room. But it will be no more. 
     The reality of this is so hard to bear. There are days I'm just ok and others where I feel like I'm suffocating from the grief I feel. I've never felt anything like this. And the one person I want to tell this to is not here. Dad, I don't know how I can do this. I don't know how I can go from one day to the next and not be able to call you. There are still many questions I know I will need answers to. There are still many stories I know you will get such a kick out of. And heck I'm even writing a letter I know you will never read.
     I know this is a part of life. Death. Such an oxymoron. It is something I have been dreading ever since I was a kid. The thought of losing both you and mom. The thought would always fill me with such fear and dread that I couldn't even bear it. Then you were diagnosed with Mesothelioma almost four years ago; an incurable cancer. My fears were becoming reality. The truth that one day, I would not have you here anymore. The fear was overwhelming. I honestly thought you were going to be gone in a year.
     God has done a lot of work in both of us these past four years. He has reassured me that he was in control of the situation and he had his hands on you. And even though you never said anything, I think God also showed you that his hands were on you and that you could trust him. You let me pray with you and share scriptures with you. Something you wouldn't let me do before.
     One of the scriptures God gave me during this time that I shared with you was: "Cast your burden upon the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken." Psalm 55:22. I wrote this scripture on a piece of paper to give you while you were in the hospital almost four years ago. I wanted you to draw from the strength of God. And I believe you were over this time. In the end, you had such peace on your face. And that peace only comes from the Lord. So, this scripture will be read at your funeral along with some others that really seem fitting.
     While I'm rejoicing that you are no longer suffering and that you are in the Lord's hands now, I'm still grieving at the thought you are not here right now. I know I'm being selfish wanting you here. Just for stupid little things right now. I want to ask you what suit you want to wear for your funeral. What pins are the most important and where do they go? What songs were your favorite? What do you want to be displayed? And I can't ask you...
     Tomorrow is the visitation, and I'm not looking forward to it. I don't want to say goodbye again. Again, I'm being selfish. I know. I pray all I am doing for your service makes you proud and honors you. All I have ever wanted was for you to be proud of me, dad. I wanted you to know that I can do this. That I can get through life without you having to take care of me. Now that this time is here, I don't want it to be. I want you here. Even to just argue with, I want you here.
     But I know I will be ok. You have raised me to be strong. And I think you had peace in the end knowing that I was going to be ok. I am in God's hands. He will guide me and protect me. That doesn't mean I won't miss you like hell. Cause I will. But this is just another stage of life. Like leveling up in a game. There will be days where my grief will suffocate me, but that's just because I love you and miss you so much. But I will cry it out, then put on my big girl pants, and continue on.
     I promise you I will look after mom. I've always tried to. She misses you so much I know. I don't know how she is still breathing, but she is. She talks to you every day. I know she will do what she needs to do to survive as well. She is stronger than she thinks. You all may have fought like cats and dogs, but she loved you fiercely. You were her rock and safe haven.
     As time goes on, we will learn to live without you. We have to. Although, I can still hear you saying, "I'm in the room!" so as to remember that you are not forgotten or left out. Well, dad, you will always be a part of us. You will always be on our minds. You will always be "in the room" with us. We may do things differently than you would, or make different decisions, but that doesn't mean we have forgotten you. It just means that we are doing the best we can. 
     I know it's going to be a while before we see each other again. You will be seeing mom before you see me, but hopefully, that won't be for a long while too. So while you wait for us, enjoy the time with Jesus and your mom and dad. Especially your mom. I know how you have missed her. Tell her all about us. And I hope you tell her you are proud of the person I have become. Give my Papa and a hug and a kiss and tell him I miss him too.
     You don't have to worry anymore. You are free. You are safe. No more pain and suffering. And I know before long you will be trying to reorganize heaven to run more efficiently. Haha! I love you, daddy. I miss you more than I can describe. I wish I didn't have to feel this pain, but I know it's because I love you so much. And in reality, this isn't Goodbye. It's just, See You Later... Alligator.