Charlie, A Boy, A Man, My Dad

silhouette of a man during sunset

( Intermediate Level )

Author’s note: “Those who follow me know my writing is completely fiction derived from life circumstances. Today’s story is true and dedicated to my father who passed less than a week ago. The raw emotions that well up inside you at that moment are sometimes difficult to express. I wanted to share some of my thoughts with you, my readers.”

As my dad walks towards his final resting place, those of us left behind mourn his passing. I reflect on the moments we shared together…

Those heated arguments I had with him as a teenager. I know he wanted the best for me but at the time, I felt he was unfair.

I reflect on the many times I laughed at him when his temper got the best of him. When he saw I was laughing at him it made him even madder…

Great memories!

But most of all, I think of those three tiny words I should have said more often, “Ï love you, Dad.”

My mom said , “He knew.” Still, there isn’t a reason why I hadn’t said it more often.

I told myself over and over again that I wouldn’t grow up to be like my dad. Guess what?

I did.”

I hear myself saying words that he said to me saying them to others. I take a step back and gasp, “Oh, I sound just like my dad!

I was told I was just like him in many ways but truth be told I didn’t believe it. I thought everyone was crazy until I got older…

Yes, I am just like my father.

A great portion of his life was spent in a group home. His life was filled with many obstacles that any young person shouldn’t have to experience.

He kept private, in these matters so honestly, I do not know much about his past. Maybe it was his way of protecting the ones around him, or not wanting sympathy, or it was a way to forget the past…

I will never know. Maybe I should have asked more questions.

When my mom told me he wanted comfort care only, I said, “He needed to fight. Tell him! Tell him to fight! He shouldn’t give up!”

I swore. It was my only response to him saying this .Of course, my mom told my dad I said, “$*#^(@@$&,” and she could see him smile behind the oxygen mask.

Once I was told of his choice of comfort care only he left this world within hours.. It was as if he wanted me to know and somehow be ok with it.

How unfair was it of me to ask such a thing? Ask him not to give up. Just for me. Because I wasn’t ready. Ready for him to go.”

He didn’t want machines keeping his body going. He somehow found peace by wanting to leave this world. He wanted his dignity and to go without suffering.

He did just this. He is at peace now and will be missed…

“I love you.”

Written By: Angel

Thoughts From Angel:

In loving memory of my father,

Until we meet again……

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If you appreciate what I do:


mourn – verb: feeling of deep sadness or sorrow

reflect – verb: think deeply or carefully

heated – adjective: conviction

truth be told – idiom: truth or real facts spoken

obstacles noun: blocks or blocks or hinders progress

sympathy – noun: sharing feelings of sadness

comfort care – noun:  a form of medical care that focuses on relieving symptoms and optimizing comfort 

unfair – adjective: unreasonable

dignity -noun: sense of pride

suffering – noun: pain or distress

Question ( s ):

No questions this week. Just a time to reflect……..Thank you for allowing me this opportunity to share my thoughts.