Tomorrow is three years...
... since we were forced to make the decision that August 12 would be my father's day to die and remove his life support.
... since I held my father's hand, kissed his forehead, told him I loved him, and then walked away - forever.
... since I watched my father's heartbeat slow and then stop from the monitors in the nurses station.
I erroneously thought this day would get easier with the passage of time. But it isn't. I relive this nightmare every year - starting on August 8.
I want one more day. I want to feel my daddy's arms around me in his all encompassing bear hug just one more time. I want to see him holding my son. I want to see him laugh with my daughter. I want my daddy.
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