It was five years ago today I was informed that I might not ever see my dad again. I just wanted to say how proud I am of you and that I love you to the moon and stars and so much farther. I was told that there had been an accident, and that you’d been hurt. I didn’t know how badly or if you were ok, but I knew that I had to be strong for my sisters and for mom. I wasn’t there that day in Afghanistan, nor did I experience this the same way that you did. My experience was different, I got to sit outside while you were in surgery, waiting, I got to comfort you when you were sad or hurting. I got to watch Star Wars so many times I lost count, I got to laugh and joke with you (especially when I would scare the janitors at night). We spent the summer in the hospital with you because that’s what family is supposed to do, we stick together. Together or not at all.
On the day that I was told about the accident, I don’t really remember how mum told us, I think I ran away, it’s all a blur. But I do remember that no matter how much I wished for rain to chase away the sun, it stayed bright and clear. You went through so much and stayed so strong through all of the surgeries and the hard times. You were as stubborn as always, when they told you that you wouldn’t be able to walk again, you pushed back and said “no, I’ve got four weddings to walk at”. I’ll never forget how strong you were during everything.
This accident gave me new family members too, Nick who is my brother. And Tyler, the guardian angel I never got the chance to meet. Thank you.
Thank you, daddy, for showing me what bravery looks like, and how to be strong when everyone assumes that you’ll fall apart. Thank you for staying on the phone with me during those times when I’d catch the scent of bleach and cleaning supplies and be brought back to the hospital, and coaching me through panic attacks when it all came crashing down.
