1.31.20

My Dearest Fassia,

I can’t believe tomorrow is 10 years since you died. Tonight is always hard because I know when I go to sleep, I wake up without you. Just your body laying there in bed. Tiny, sunken, gray, weird, cold… When I woke up, I had missed it. You died. Without me. Probably what you wanted… but I hated it. I wanted to hold your hand. Instead, I had to wheel my wheelchair to your bed side and then climb up with you and lay with your lifeless body. I think they had to pull me away from you. I could have laid their forever. I hated the thought of telling my siblings. I was scared how they would react. I didn’t want them to feel any pain… I knew they would… but I wanted to protect them. I always want to protect them. Always have. Always will. This is such a raw moment in my heart and mind. As horrible as it was, I want to relive it.

As I sit here next to my daughter, I feel sad that she never got to meet you. She will never truly know Grandpa Fassia. Goodness Gracious you would have been an amazing Grandpa. I also feel happy that I have her to keep me distracted. And keep me focused on being successful in life and trying to be happy and a better person. Everything I do now, I do for her. I want her to grow up and be like you. Funny, caring, loving, supportive.

I don’t have much to say tonight. At least nothing nice or happy or uplifting. Just know Dad… I miss you. Every day. More than I can express. It messes with me.

Thank you for giving me what I have. Thank you for the time we had. I love you. I want to be like you. I want you to be proud.

With all the Love that I Possess,

Your Daughter