3 more days

Three more days until November the first. It's been almost six years, Dad. It's actually been that long, but my memories, as well as Lily's, are still fresh. I'm all grown up now, Dad, and I'm sorry. I hope you smile when I say that I'm finally moving on from your death, but there is not a day that goes by that I don't think of you, also. Don't get me wrong, I didn't forget you, and I never will, but I'm sorry that I barely visit your grave anymore. I would if I could, visit you every single day, but I can't. It's selfish on my part to say, it's not like I can't visit you often, if not everyday, but I feel that it's best if I don't. I don't want to keep looking back receiving flashbacks constantly as I kneel in front of your grave. I'm tired of crying. I still remember the last night I ever got to visit you at your house which was with Lily and Misty. As they were washing the dishes, I walked over to sit with you in the living room. It killed me when I looked up to see you crying. I never.. saw you cry before..
"Daddy, why are you crying?"
"I don't wanna die.. I don't wanna die and leave my kids.."
My eyes were clogging up with tears the moment you said that.
"Don't talk like that.. you're not gonna die.. you're not gonna die.."
My memory is still clear as ever when it comes to you. From the times when I'd have my left feet on your right, and my right feet on your left, clinging onto your waist as you walk, all of those piggy back rides, picnics, swings at the park, getting my very first pet rabbit, sleeping with you when I'm scared of ghosts and monsters, buying a new toy everytime I got to visit you, you pwning me in tennis, "purple power," waking up to a cup of hot chocolate made for me every morning, sweet as ever, it's all gone now. Why did you have to be sick? I watched you worked yourself out til the break of dawn while you were sick. You would never sit down, having in mind you can die any second. You're really my inspiration, Dad. You didn't let your sickness stop you from doing heavy labor, or anything, you just kept moving forward until you couldn't anymore. So many years I have been told it wasn't, but I feel like it was kind of my fault for your death. Even if it wasn't my fault, dad, why do I feel so burdened with this whole situation? Can anyone explain to me? Was this the reason you asked me to move in with you? Because you knew you were going to die and leave me? No, I should've moved in sooner, before you were even sick. Maybe if I did, it would've never been this way. It was all you ever wanted, all you ever asked of me besides to make good grades in school. I should've. I was so selfish, I'm so sorry. I always thought about myself, having friends, all of that sort. To be honest, I didn't want to move in with you because your house was a bit scarey, and there were no one to play with in your neighborhood. I'd be by myself all the time because you'll always be at work. I shouldn't have even thought about those things, just as long as it would've meant that you'd still be here today. I'm so stupid. How did you even get sick? I've never seen a man so healthy and athletic. It still makes me sad to think about the very last day I ever saw you.. alive. It was still daylight. UMC, the room on the right straight down from the waiting room. Doctors here, doctors there. You were lying there as if you weren't in pain. The conversation was short, but thank God I told you I love you and gave you a kiss before I left. Walking towards the door, I looked back to see you crying, and I told you "bye" as you returned it back, and "bye" is where we ended it. Did you know that's the reason I never tell people "bye" anymore? Maybe it was a coincidence. It doesn't matter anymore, I can't say what if in any situation, you're already gone. I'm done looking back. Whatever I do, and where ever I go, just know I'll always be thinking of you. Even if I don't visit your grave often, I realized I don't have to visit your grave to visit you, you're always with me, watching over me, who knows, maybe right beside me. I'll never forget you, and I'll always love you. I can't blame you for my troubles today anymore. You did nothing wrong to me. I'm sad you left me, left all of us, but I can't point my fingers in your direction anymore. I'm sorry. It's been my own fault. I was contemplating on whether or not if I should visit your grave in three days. I decided that I won't. Anyways, guess what? I talked to grandma the other day. I don't get to talk to her whenever I want to, and neither does she. She makes me cry too much. She brings you up all the time. Her and uncle wants me to move there to run his hotel, but I don't wanna do it, Dad, I really don't, but I don't wanna upset them. I told grandma I'm gonna get super rich somehow and bring her back to America and have her live with me so I can take care of her. I hate how she cries over Boi and Linda. She keeps saying that they don't love her and that they won't talk to her. I told her that she shouldn't care over them, that I'll love her for them, and when they don't talk to her, I'll talk to her for them. I really miss her, Dad. She's getting really old. She can't walk at the moment. I don't know what to do, much less what to say to her. It really makes me sad that I'm not able to see her whenever I want. I hope that when I am able to visit her, it's not too late, if you know what I mean. I mean, she's really.. really old. Take care of her, dad. Give her alot of your super strength since you don't need to use it physically anymore. I don't want her to die on me, not yet. My dear grandma, if you could just wait a little longer, I'll be there. I'll be there and I'll bring you back, I will. For the times you can't walk, I'll carry you, when you're hungry, I'll feed you, and when you're lonely, I'll be here for you to talk to. Please wait for me.

Winter illness

Why, good morning :) I slept at 8 last night and woke up at 6. The morning skies are luminous. Apparently, I have bronchitis - again. Do you know what I love about being sick in the winter? My senses. My sinuses are clogged, and I know the feeling is annoying, but it can be looked at in a positive outlook. I cannot smell the badness that lingers around my atmosphere, but when time comes to smell something of nice fragrence, I can just get a whiff of my own imagination. My voice sounds funny, but at least I can hear myself speak and know what I'm saying unlike those who like to say things and don't realize what they're talking about. My throat is horrible, but I when I take a big gulp, I make sure I notice every bit that comes along my way. My mouth feels a bit numb, but it is not tasteless. Actually, everything I eat or drink tastes more yummier. I appreciate the sweet taste of hot chocolating running through my body as I sip on it during early mornings. Morning coffee would be the word, but I can't drink that, it makes me extremely tired. What I love best is waking up in the cold weather, not wanting to get out of bed, wrapped and snuggled in my blanket like a burrito. Everything I feel is extra texture-ree. I love itt. As for the inflammation of my bronchial, now that just sucks LOLLLLOLOLOL. I hate coughing every now and then, but who likes it? I think after a good night rest, I recovered a bit from my horrible day yesterday.