I've found my dads hospital wrist band today. It brought back those horrid memories I've dreamed to forget. Exact date; November 23, 2012.
It's been 2 years, almost 3. It feels like it was yesterday. Maybe it's time I move on, put this behind me, but I can't seem to. I try. But I've used every ounce of effort I've had, and nothing's happened.
Maybe it's time I stop mourning over his death. Maybe it's time for me to move on from my past. But it's not as easy as it sounds.
I can't erase those memories. I can't forget him. I can't stop loving him. I can't.
At the age of 35, a great man shouldn't have passed. He's worth more than he ever had. He is forever my inspiration, he's the reason I push through things.
I made him a promise, promised him that I wouldn't make the same mistakes he did. That I wouldn't drink. I promised to make him proud.
He sacrificed his freedom in order to make us happy. He worked so hard, just for me to get the education he never had.
R.I.P poppa love you 💗
