Hope, more than a word. The only thing I have left.

It’s been years and I can still hear your laughter as a child. I remember racing home after 16 hr days at work just to read you “If you give mouse a cookie.” To lay there and stare at the ceiling and hear about your day, your thoughts and dreams. I remember thinking, you are the kindest child I’ve ever met and then thinking how proud I was to have made you, to know you and be your Father. I remember family dinner ” that what the best part of your day?” I remember how much I miss you with every breath I take and how I wish I knew that you were okay, alive, or anything besides the void of nothing that stands between us now. I remember Ferry rides and walks on the beach. Easter egg hunts and birthday parties. I remember the only thing I ever wanted growing up was to have a family, a normal family with a normal life. I think we had that for a while. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to ask for the help I needed. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the man I was needed to be. Parkinson’s disease is ruthless, the medicines used to treat it are cruel and outdated yet here we are 11 years since that fateful morning your mother and I woke up only to find I could move and ever since then everything has changed. I hope wherever you are and whatever you’re doing that you know you are loved and cherished missed and needed.

Always benjamin, your Father, your friend and your biggest admirer.

2 thoughts on “Hope, more than a word. The only thing I have left.

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