My dad passed on six hours ago, which feels like an eternity. I miss him a lot already.

The wave of emotions is simply overwhelming. My father was such a good man, it is hard not to love him. He treated us really well, done a lot for us, and it's sad to see him suffer so much pain.

But I hoped he went away happy, at least I think that he did.

The four of us in the family managed to sleep together last night for the first time since we were children. Shared some stories, and laughed a bit. He was in a lot of pain, but was still conscious, and managed to tell us a story or two.

Less than 12 hours later, he was gone.

It's hard, but I'm sure he's somewhere enjoying eating something sweet now, since he doesn't have to worry about diabetes anymore.

And the fairways are always plenty wide up there, and he'll probably never lose another ball again.

The last thing I promised him was to give up smoking, because it caused him so much pain and his untimely demise. He said there was still much he wanted to do, but yet we all share in the belief that he's lived a full life, and was proud of what he's done.

I'm proud of what he's done. I will always remember what he's done for me.

Someday, I'll come find you dad, and perhaps you can teach me more about blackjack, and the lessons of life that you try to tell me while you're hitting with a sixteen.

Don't worry, we'll take care of mom.

God bless you dad.