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“My dad died of cancer. It started out as prostate…you know how it spreads. My initial reaction was relief. He laid in bed for six weeks, four of those weeks with no water, no food, pretty much starving to death. He didn’t want to be revived. I don’t blame him; I wouldn’t either. He was just laying there except right before he passed away. I said, ‘It’s okay to go ahead and go. Everything’s good.’ He rose up, just kind of looked at me, and he turned his head and laid back down…poof, gone.

I think about him pretty much every day. Or I say stuff that he said that I find to be funny. Especially when I’m around my siblings. I’m good with it…death in general. We all live and die. We start dying the day we’re born…unfortunately, some before others.”


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