
4. It Couldn’t Have Been More
I was told growing up that my father had died from cancer before I turned 1. When I was 25 my uncle drunkenly told me that my grandfather called every year to make sure my father was still in prison. 48 hours later I was on the phone talking to my father. He had been in and out of prison the whole time. He was shot when he was 15 by a random person driving down the street and ended up addicted to pain medicine. He would forge prescriptions and get caught. All his prison time was related to drugs. No violent offenses. He just couldn’t kick the drug habit. The longest he had been free in the previous 25 years was 4 months. Then I found him. We talked on the phone frequently and I traveled to the state he was in a couple of times to visit him in prison. He got out after about a year and a half and never went back. Stayed off the drugs and turned his life around. We visited each other at least once a year and talked on the phone at least once a week. He passed away last year from intestinal issues and infection. I will always cherish the 12 years we had. Sad it couldn’t have been more.