My dad was a great father until I was 12, when he remarried and moved a continent away. For the next 38 years, we got glimpses of who he really was when he visited we kids, alone. I hate that he had to hide himself from us when he was with his wife. Yes, it was his choice, but I wish he’d made different choices. He died of a preventable, treatable condition but he delayed treatment out of fear of getting COVID (pre-vaccine).

The person in his life who should have been compassionate and helpful blocked us in every attempt to have information about his condition or talk to him, but I’m grateful to nurses who helped us gain access at the last minute so I could have a precious, final 2-minute call with him. What upsets me most is that we loved him so, SO much, but he couldn’t let us in. I believe that people come into our lives to learn a lesson, and sadly, I don’t think Dad did. I hope that whatever comes next for him gives him the freedom to learn what he needs to learn, but in the meantime, I am so sad. I miss him. I missed him when he was alive, and now I miss the lost opportunity to even try to get him to let me in.