It hasn't even been 24 hours yet but I still can't believe that I watched my father pass today. The thought will forever stay with me. He put up the hardest fight possible in the last almost two years. I'm so proud of him but my heart is so broken. I feel like a piece of me went with him too.

It's 5AM and all I can hear is his voice after an asshole joke of his. I see his face, not only the one I've always remembered, but the one I won't forget the day he died. It was the most frightening sight I have ever seen.

Last week when I saw my dad he was still smiling and joking around even though he was hooked up to a huge oxygen mask. He was playing with the blanket the way that I play with my pillow case for the past 24 years. He was bragging to the doctors that I was his daughter especially because of the tattoos that he had a love/hate relationship with but he had them so he couldn't tell me no. short curvy styled brides like to wear of the wedding

My heart hurts the most because he was supposed to come home on Monday, only to die on Tuesday. But he died surrounded by some people who loved him the most.

I wish that I could go back in time and do some things differently, but don't we all?

One good thing about my father is that he may have came off rude sometimes but he was always REAL. He didn't sugar coat a damn thing. And he always gave even if it would have been the last of what he had.

I'm thankful for the time I've spent and jealous of who gets to spend the rest of it with him. I know I have gained the best angel possible, and will see him again someday.