Our final conversation was the best we had in years. You were clear-headed. You were hopeful. You were vivacious. You spoke of the future. You spoke of your love of our family. You told me you were proud of us. You told me to stop living for other people. You told me to follow my heart. For the first time since I was 8-years old, I believed you. That you had changed. That I could finally stop fighting for your life, because you had it under control. You were ready to start living. You were ready to rebuild what addiction had robbed us all of, our family. Within 16 hours you were gone. Another heroin statistic. Another dead junkie. Another Father, Husband, Son, Uncle, Friend, Mentor…gone. Another trail of broken hearts. A man like no other, leaving the world with another senseless void. It’s been 9 years, and the pain remains the same. I didn’t just lose my dad that day, I lost everything I ever believed in. This picture always makes me think of that final conversation, of the parents I almost believed you were becoming. I get angry because I miss you. I get angry because I’ve fought harder for you than you ever fought for yourselves. I get angry because we all deserved better.
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#RestInPeace #LoveYouBigMuch #GhostDad #MissMyDad #RealTalk #AddictionAwareness #AddictionKills #FuckHeroin #ForeverKindOfLove #LearningToLetGo #TheLameChickWrites
