In Memoriam: Brief AFK

My father passed away last Friday. He had been battling a brain tumor for two and a half years, and through most of it was active and healthy and able to continue on nearly as normal. The tumor, though, would take bits away — a word here and there, until near the end he could hardly be understood. A terrible punishment for a man of great strength, intelligence, and humor.
I moved back to New England so I could spend more time with him. I thought he would have longer. I thought maybe it would just go away. I thought I’d always be able to go up there on a weekend and have breakfast at the old truck stop on 3A.
I thought things would always be the same. Dad was a rock. He was always there for us, no matter what. We tried to be his rock but we weren’t as strong.
I love you, Dad.
His obituary … David G. Holloway

17 thoughts on “In Memoriam: Brief AFK”

  1. My condolences go out to you and your family, Tipa! I’m so sorry! I’m glad that you were able to move out here to be closer to him.

  2. I’m very sorry to hear this, Tipa. My wife and I’s love is with you and yours. Not much else to say that wouldn’t be cliche, so just know I’ll be thinking of you and yours.

  3. My dad will be 70 in August, but he almost passed a couple years ago from a dreadful illness. I’ve been grateful for every moment since then, and wanted to let you know how glad I am you moved back to be closer, and how much I’m sure that meant to him.
    *hug*

  4. The English language is unfortunately lacking when it comes to expressing true sympathy. Just know that my heart goes out to you, and that you’re in my thoughts. Come back to us when you’re feeling up to it.

  5. Tipa,
    So sorry to hear of your loss. You are very fortunate to have had such a strong and wonderful father and his strength and memory will now go forward with you.
    Best wishes during this difficult time and you know you will be in our thoughts and prayers.

  6. Though I’m sure Dad would’ve loved to have you back in New England sooner – there is no way he ever felt you faltered on your end of the bargain. He’s the parent – being a rock is in the job description. Going out and trying to live good lives is in our job description. Dad had our step-mom – and you know how much they hated their routine broken (aka visitors too often). Nor would he have felt comfortable leaning on you (or any of us) for support.
    At least you did move back and have that time with him. And the best thing you can do for Dad to be his rock is take care of Dawn as best she will let us. I don’t think you’re terribly religious – but I think Dad knows and sees what we do and is happy that we are being there for Dawn…. his rock.

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