It’s a really strange sensation to know that today will be the first day of my life that I’m alive and my dad is not, that at the same time I’m here, he’s not, and this is happening for the first time since I was born.
It’s taking me time to fully grasp the implications of this new reality. For example, yesterday, a tree next to our house broke and fell over the street. That happened a couple hours after I knew about his death. And my first thought was to tell my dad about it: “Hey dad, do you remember that crooked tree next to our house? So… it broke and fell over the street. We all knew it would eventually happen, don’t we?” and I imagined his answer for that, something like, “That was an obvious thing to happen. That tree was all crooked and rotten from inside. Did it hurt someone?”
A few seconds later, I realized I could not tell him about the fallen tree. The same tree that he himself warned me many times about, advising me to be careful when going under it on foot or with my car.
Now I know that for the following days I’ll have many thoughts like that. Something will happen, and my first thought will be to talk about it to my dad.
Since my book is on Amazon, it’s available in many countries. And every time I had a sales report, I told him about it. I remember I once told him, “Hey dad, today I sold a book to someone in France! Never imagined that someone in France would buy a book written in English!” And he proudly told me, “Then now you’re an international author!” To that, I just nodded and thought to myself, “Well, it was just one book. That’s not exactly the sales or an international author.” But I liked to see the pride in his face every time I told him about a new sale. And even before I had sold any copy of my book, my dad used to tell everyone, “My son is an author. He writes books!” And he said that with a bright in his eyes; he really trusted me and in my work.
I believe in it too. I know that it’s a matter of time for my book to hit it big and become a success. But I’d trade my book and all the 12 years I invested crafting it to have a chance to give my dad just one hug, kiss his forehead, and tell him I love him.
What comforts me, is that I did all that I could to help him while he was sick. I spent nights in the hospital caring for him and went after all sorts of doctors and treatments to heal his condition. And the day before he was transferred to the ICU, he was already totally irresponsive. He was just laid on the hospital bed; he did not blink anymore, his eyes half open all the time and mouth agape. Then I approached him, grabbed his hand, and told him, “Dad, I’m here. Your son is here!” He opened his eyes, his pupils moved looking for me, and he locked eyes with me. Then I told him I was there for him, that he would be okay, and prayed with him. Minutes later, he was moved to the ICU, where he died by the next morning.
So, if I could give you, dear reader, any advice, it would be: HUG YOUR MONS AND DADS. TELL THEM YOU LOVE THEM! IT’S A SIMPLE ACT, BUT PRICELESS!
I love you, dad! May you know I’ll honor your words, “My son is an international author!” And you’ll be proud of me in eternity!
MV Rockchild 
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