My dad died when I was 5 month's pregnant with my first child. At my father's funeral, I stood in front of hundreds of people and shared stories of my 6'4, 300 plus pounds father that laid lifeless in the casket next to me. He never met any of my children. They never got to see his face or experience him as pop-pop. They only know of him through stories I share with them. My dad took 32 years to die. It was a slow and painful death that I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy.

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