I miss my dad

November is always a hard month for me, almost everyone I have been close to if they die is normally in November. It started with my best friend at age of 9, okay I got through it and it not painful anymore. I lost my guardian 20 years today because my mom and dad got a divorce. This will sound cruel part there’s a part of me that is glad he is gone, he will never be able to hurt another person. He for a long time was the only father I knew. He didn’t believe their was a G-d, and had no self control. So I have this titled I miss my Dad. To make a long story short my mom lost custody of me after my guardian passed away.

I was a ward of the Court and was moved to many foster homes. I decided I wanted to find my Biological Father, so I could met him. My caseworker didn’t want to help me, I knew what State and city and my dad first last and middle name. So I started looking and Praying. G-d answers prayer, I got a hold of my father address through a caseworker. I wrote him a letter. He responded right away, for the first time in my life I felt wanted and accepted.

My dad sent me his favorite Poem which was “Foot Prints In the Sand” with a daily planner and a letter with a little money hidden away. He was glad to had finally heard from me and was hoping some day he would be contacted because he wasn’t able to get through to anyone who would help him find us kids.

I was moved a couple more times, I got sick of it. I wanted to graduate form high school and make something of myself. I was so tired of no one ever wanting me. At this time I was a believer. I never really understand G-d as Father. I had father figures but didn’t see G-d as like that.

The last time I was moved I had had enough, I couldn’t take it any more. I had been writing back and forth with dad. He gave me his phone number and we talked a few times. I connected with him, we had a lot of the same interest and desires. He listened and that didn’t happen often. One night I just saw my life at a dead end. I was going to a alternative school trying to earn my GED so I could be emancipated. I wanted better then the GED for school, I wanted to know the part of my family I didn’t know. Something happened in the group home I lived in and I decided No more. I called my Dad and told him I was planning on running away.

He asked where I was going, I told him I don’t know if you want me I will come there, if not then you will not hear or see me until I am over 18. My dad if he could call me back in 10 minutes I told him No I am on a pay phone. He asked me to call back because he was going to see what he could do about getting me there with my family.

Well I called him back, and Grandma had already been working on getting me a plane ticket. Grandma could have gotten into a lot of trouble so could have dad. Well I ran away that night and stayed with some friends. Nice thing was is that if you was a kid that had a history of running away they didn’t try very hard to find you. Know don’t get me wrong, I never ran away I always returned.. Plus they had some stupid rule that I had to be missing for so long before they look for me.

Well I made it safely to Dad. The whole family was there, Grandma both of my uncles, a few causins, my step mom and sister and most of her family. I was welcomed into the family. Little did any of us know that my dad was seriously ill. He had cancer. He tried tricking me, he was supposed to where his blue jacket with his name, but him and his brother in law traded jackets. I knew the man in the jacket wasn’t my dad. How did I know. My dad’s eyes and facial expressions, he had the same facial expressions as me. Also out of everyone he looked the most excited, his eyes where glowing more then anyone.

I walked up to him and said your my dad. Dad said we would drive alone and give us a chance to catch up a little. I was happy because there was just so many people it was overwhelming, but I knew I was wanted by everyone. Dad and I talked a lot, found out that my love for music came from him. We talked about mom, and he never said anything ill of my mom. He admitted to doing wrong, and said he wanted to be with us kids but wasn’t allowed to.

Dad got me into school right way. It was a fresh start, and no one in the school knew I was the one no one wanted. I had a hard time making friends with kids my age, because I just didn’t relate to kids my age. I related better to my dad, he treated me like a adult but at the same time as his daughter who wasn’t exactly an adult. We grew close, quickly. I had strong faith and prayed a lot, one day while praying I realize that something was wrong with dad. I went and talked to him, I asked him when was the last time he went to the doctor. He said it been a while. I told him he needed to go for a check up.

He went for a check up and they found cancer, they told him his treatment options. He came home and told the family. He was going to be in the hospital soon, and when my caseworker found out about this she was trying to send me back to the state I came from because my step mom couldn’t handle her own kids. My grandma wasn’t going to allow that not for a minute.

I stayed with my dad for a few more weeks. We grew close during that time, eventually he was hospitalized. I went to stay with grandma and once again I was in a new school. Cancer is such a ugly thing. Dad decided to stop treatment because it made him sick, he choose to not live through treatment. What I don’t get is that Chemo and Radiation Poisons your body and it like kill the cancer before you kill the patient. Watching my dad die from this was the hardest thing, it is still one of the most painful memories.

I was at the Hospital as often as Grandma could allow. Grandma wanted to make sure I went to school, because she didn’t want to give the state a reason to take me away from the family again. My dad got progressively worst. I knew he wouldn’t live through it, but I hoped he would. I ended up living with Grandma. Before my dad died he asked her to make sure I was taken care of and not to spoiled by her.

Dad asked me to take care of Grandma and my uncle who lived with her. He wanted us to take care of each other. He tired telling me he loved me, and that it wasn’t my fault that he was so sick. His cancer came from overseas while serving in the Military. I don’t blame the military, not their fault they offer services to their people, but they have to use the services provided. My dad like many men neglected seeing the doctor. Maybe had he went to the doctor more often they would have found the cancer before it got as bad as it did. Cancer spreads fast, and is unforgiving for overlooking it.

I was in a play that I had joined before we knew dad was sick. It was a musical… I was going to drop out of the musical because I wanted to be with dad more and practicing was taking up a lot of time. I told my dad I was going to drop out of the play, he told me No he would be happy if I did it. It would make him happy for me to be in the play, and he would be fine.

Before practice we prayed. The night my dad died I knew he had died right when it happened. I had prayed, I had asked G-d to heal him or take him home to be with Him. I don’t want him to suffer any more. I looked up at the clock and it said 7pm. The only reason why I know the time is because I looked at the stupid clock after I prayed.

I had gotten home, I was there for just a few minutes and grandma had called. She told me not to cry, I knew for sure dad was no longer with us. I didn’t cry, I couldn’t. She told me the time he had passed and that his heart was the last thing to stop, the funny thing is he had a whole in his heart growing up so you’d think it would stop first.

It has been almost 14 years, and it still hard to deal with. There are times I want to be able to call him and tell him what been happening in my life. I don’t get to do that, I can’t. I can’t contact the dead because G-d said No to that in his word. I could easily have a one sided conversation but that just seems empty. My dad was cremated and his ashes spread. There is no grave site to go to, it times like these I wish I had at least a grave site to visit.