“My dad passed away on 10th April 2014, about seven months after he was diagnosed with lymphoma; it’s a type of cancer.
It all started with a lump on his neck; it wasn’t very big, but obvious enough. That’s what prompted him to see the doc in the first place. Basically, his lymph nodes were swollen, and he had a fever that just wouldn’t go away for weeks.
I think my soul died a little when I first found out, but because he was so strong and accepting of it, I felt like things were going to be okay. The doctors did indicate some hope of survival at first, but it reached a stage where the cancer cells would surely win.
My brothers and I have always been very close, but this definitely brought us even closer together. I couldn’t really prepare myself for the inevitable, but I found a lot of comfort in knowing that he was alright to go, and that he was happy with the life that he had lived. He made sure I knew that.
We were very open about it. Not sure if you want to put this in, but he even told me how to dress him when he’s in the coffin! He wanted to wear his checkered shirt, khaki pants and brown shoes; he said he would look very handsome. We laughed about it. It’s so funny that he thought it through!
Oh, I miss him plenty. I have many memories of him that are very vivid. We were very close throughout every stage of my life. He’s the one person who completely understood me, you see, and I completely understood him.
I talk to him regularly still, and I’d imagine what his responses would be. I’m fortunate enough to dream of him quite regularly, so I can still hear his voice. And every time ManU wins a match, I look up and smile at him. He was the biggest fan.” – Rosanne, 30
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