Letter 5

Hey, Dad!
     On my way home from visiting you at the hospital, I remembered the first time we went to the Ohio State Fair. I must have been about 4 or 5. I saw a ride that I really wanted to get on. You told me that I might be too small for the ride. I remember thinking that you always told me that I was a 'big girl', so there is no way that I could be too small for a ride. I insisted to get on. It was a roller coaster. It was my first time. Back then, a child that was too small could ride as long as an adult rode with them. You agreed to ride with me. We got in, sat down, and pulled the bar back. The bar locked. I was so excited! But then, it started. As it climbed slowly up the initial hill, I told you that I wanted to get off. I cried. I screamed. You said "It's okay. Nothing's gonna happen to you. You're a big girl." Then we drop! I screamed! You yelled, "You're okay!" as the ride kept going. I cried and screamed some more. I wanted to get off so bad. Then, the ride stopped and it was time to get off. We get out and I say "I want to get back on! It was fun!" You said "Are you kidding me? All of that crying you were doing? We are not getting back on that ride!" and we walked away.
     The doctors just told me today that you are going to need palliative care. Yeah, the fancy word for hospice. I held my emotions inside pretty well until I got into the car. I cried, I screamed. I even kicked my feet. Then, I remembered the roller coaster. You said I was a big girl. I can take this. It's going to me scary, but I can get through this. Not only that, but I get to hold your hand on your roller coaster this time. It's a first time for both of us. You said you were ready, though. I can't say that I am. But, I agreed to ride with you, so that's what I will do.
     I love you! Talk to you later!
     -Tina