For You, Dad.

The year grandma passed away was the roughest. Following right after that was your divorce and the addiction you struggled with for many years. But for the loss of your mom, I knew a part of you had gone away forever. Although things had drastically changed, you always kept your spirits up and gave me everything I could ever want. You had been struggling with your own demons but you always pushed them aside to make sure I got the childhood I deserved. You would never show me that we were struggling and you did such a great job, I had no idea that things were going downhill so fast.

The year of your divorce we moved out into our own place. We were surviving on your retirement money and I also had a steady part-time job so everything seemed to be going in the right direction. The bills were all getting paid on time, we had food in the fridge, and we also got a little puppy. Little did I know of what you did when you locked your bedroom door at night. It wasn't until I found the small empty baggies lying around, or the endless pill bottles that you always seemed to be reaching for. I got a little suspicious but I didn't understand it at the time, all I knew is that I was getting everything I could ever dream of, from the TVs all the way down to my favorite pair of shoes.

The year we got evicted, my heart sank to my stomach. I was so confused of why I had to start selling all my nice things that we literally just bought. It was then you told me we didn't have enough money to pay rent, and with the little I was making from my part-time, there was no way I could afford it on my own. You told me you had no retirement money left, and that you had spent it all. We were only at the new place for 8 months, and I didn't know what to say. Maybe "where did it all go?" could've been a start. You made excuses of where the money had gone by saying we bought too much electronics, or went out to eat too much which I know really wasn't the case. The struggle of your addictions flew around the now empty living room with flying colors. I will never forget having to eat Spaghetti-O's straight from the can in the dark with nothing but the little light my phone gave off, or having to shower in ice cold water.

The year we had to live in the van is the most traumatizing to me. We didn't have a place to go after being evicted so you had to trade in the truck that you loved so dearly for an 01' Ford van. Whatever couldn't fit in my small duffle bag or the laundry basket we either had to sell or leave behind. Grandma's favorite chair was one of those things we had to leave behind and it hurts just thinking about it. It was me, you, and our dog living out of that van and to this day I don't know how we managed. We took out all the rear seats and you laid in the back because of your back problems, and I stayed up front with my chair reclined. Oh how dearly I missed sleeping on my bed. We showered at parks around twice a week, and stayed in the Toys 'R Us parking lot to nap during the day, and on the side of the road in a neighborhood at night. There are some days where I craved my personal space back but I reminded myself that we could be sleeping out on the street, and it could have been so much worse.

The year we moved into the shelter was the best thing ever at the time. Hot showers, a cozy bed, and a place for our dog to run around at. When I realized things had gone bad, I was already too late. You got introduced to a new type of substance and you started to abuse it. You would lock me out of the room, make me sleep in the TV room, and yell at me for a piece of trash being on the ground. Our fridge was no longer stocked with food, and things had become sour between us. We would fight everyday, whether it was face to face, or over text. Of course I know it was not all your fault, you had been struggling with major depression and sometimes I tended to ignore it. I was selfish at some points and I so badly wanted things to go back to the way they once were when we were living in the car. We were best friends and it felt like that changed all overnight. It stayed bad between us for several months while we were living there. Saying I regret arguing with you everyday is an understatement.

The day you passed away is a day I will never forget. You had been in and out of the ER the whole week leading up to the last day where you didn't come home at all. You were in a coma, and couldn't breathe on your own. I got a call from the doctor saying I had to come in right away, when less than 24 hours ago you had been up and talking to me just fine. I sometimes feel you put all those bad things in your body on purpose because you were so tired of being here. I know you missed the old days of how strong our father-daughter relationship used to be, but I wish you had left me a note or something. I wasn't able to officially tell you goodbye because the doctors were unsure if you were able to hear or not, but I swear I had said it a million times anyways. On your death certificate the cause of death was simply written as "OD". My heart breaks everyday knowing I will never be able to hear your voice anymore. We had a bond no one will be able to replace. Waking up everyday is a struggle because I have never been without you for the whole 21 years I've been on this earth. But even now as I cry every night I know I have to wake up the next morning just to make you proud. I hope you're proud of me up there because everything I do is For You, Dad.