Hello everyone. Wow, today is Sunday. It is beautiful outside the house. Not to hot nor cold. A perfect day to get either on my motorcycle or in my car to see my Daddy. Plus, it is the holiday weekend and I would have to ask Daddy what did he plan to do for Labor Day. At very least, he could stop over of BBQ at my house.

Well those thoughts will never happen. My Daddy passed on August 15, 2007. It seems that every since that day, my life is in a frozen state. A state of depression, denial and loss. Nightly, I have been drinking everyday since his death. I told myself that I would never become a alcohlic, watching what many years of drinking did to my Daddy. I guess, I lied.

Speaking of my new found hobby...the bar...I only feel numb to all feelings of the loss when I am drinking. This is a person that would drink a glass of wine once maybe every three months, to now drinking beer and wine nightly, since August 15th. Guess, I want to die too. In a way, I do and another way, I can't. My kids need me, at least for the next two years. They are both graduating in the next two years and after then, who cares about what happens to me.

My Daddy was my life. I loved him ONLY equal to the amount of love for my children. More than my husband, my late Mother and any other family. For him to be gone and not to be able to spend my famous "Sunday's" with him is unbearable. I so want him back but I know, this will never happen in my lifetime. This sucks and it makes me not want to be around without him.

Oh the mix of emotions. Two years ago I loss my mother. I loved my mother alot but I was and is a Daddy's girl at heart. I loss my mother to Cancer and my Daddy to the same darn disease. In two days, he was gone. In eight months, my mother was gone. In two short years of my mother's passing, I am a true oprhan at 37.

When I say two days with my Daddy....I took him to Radiation and Chemo on August 13th to have him gone two days later. For five weeks of treatment, he had ups and down but NEVER crossed my mind he would not beat his throat cancer until 1:30 am the morning of August 15th, when I HAD to tell him it was OK to go. I did not mean it I just knew the suffering was too much for him to bear.....but I did not mean it.

My Daddy died of Sephis (excuse spelling) a massive infection in the blood. The Chemo had taken all of his white blood cells to fight a inflection of the body. I kept making the doctor's put a new IV, drug, breathing machine, dyhasis, experiemental drugs....you name it, I made them do it. I the end, my Daddy did not have the strength to live and the means to fight in his body. I know I have to accept that, I just do not want too.

I told him to go to Chemo and Radiation. I feel like I made him die. If he was not treated, the stage 3 cancer would have killed him anyway. There was no way to win. He tried, hard. My mother, from the time the doctors told her it was Stage 4 breast cancer, she refused all treatment and made a choice to not fight the cancer. I admired her for that but I did not want my Daddy not to fight with EVERYTHING he had. He did, but we failed.

So with the wide mix of emotions, it Sunday and I am alone. Thanks for reading and listening.