What if tomorrow never comes?

Death changes everything! Time changes nothing… I still miss the sound of your voice, the wisdom in your advice, the stories of your life and just being in your presence. So NO, time changes nothing, I miss you as much today as I did the day you died. I miss you, dad! 16 years without my old man 🙁

My father died 16 years ago, from throat cancer. He avoided the sadness, gathered his strength, and, with all his braveness he faced the disease head-on. He never complained about the pain, the bitter medicine, the cruelty of fate. It was difficult to see him deteriorate, day by day without being able to contain time, without being able to do anything to ease the suffering. It was very difficult to see a part of me leaving.

He was a brave man, who never let himself be beaten down, he was intelligent, loving to his children and his wife, always trying to please us.
Of course, my father had flaws, he was human after all. But I will not list his flaws, because they are lost in the face of the greatness of the qualities that he had.

Sixteen years have passed and, in fact, I have never recovered from that loss: every day a part of me cries and suffers this absence. I will never forgive myself for not saying how much I loved him.

I will never save for tomorrow what I have to say to those I love. Because worse than making mistakes, it is the absence of words, it is the regret of what has not been said and done.

It hurt so much, it hurts my soul, it’s a void that nobody fills.
My father, my hero, my dear, my friend, my old man.
I miss you and love you!!! ♥

Meu pai faleceu há 16 anos atrás, vítima de um maldito câncer na garganta. Ele driblou a tristeza, reuniu suas forças e, resignado e valente, encarou a doença de frente. Nunca reclamou da dor, dos remédios amargos, da crueldade do destino. Foi difícil vê-lo definhar, dia-a-dia sem poder conter o tempo, sem poder fazer nada pra amenizar o sofrimento. Foi muito difícil ver uma parte de mim partindo.

Ele era um homem corajoso, que nunca se deixava abater, era inteligente, carinhoso com os filhos e a esposa, sempre tentando nos agradar. Claro que meu pai tinha defeitos, era humano e normal. Mas não vou listá-los, porque eles se perdem diante da grandeza das qualidades que ele tinha.

Dezesseis anos se passaram e, de fato, nunca me recuperei dessa perda: todos os dias uma parte de mim chora e sofre essa ausência. Não vou me perdoar nunca por não ter dito o quanto o amava.
Nunca mais guardarei para amanhã o que tenho que dizer a quem amo. Porque pior que errar, é a ausência das palavras, é o remorso do que não se disse e não se fez.

Doi tanto, doi na alma, é um vazio que ninguém preenche.

Meu pai, meu herói, meu querido, meu amigo, meu velho.
Saudade para o resto da vida.
Te Amo, Pai!!!

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