"Oh, Daddy Dear, You're Still Number One..."

I've been putting off posting for a while now. Because I knew I would have to write about losing my dad.

My dad had been sick for a while, and in late September of last year, they found a brain tumor the size of a lemon. They were able to remove about 95 percent of it and radiated the rest. The cause of the tumor was metastatic melanoma, meaning the source of the melanoma was somewhere else on his body. He went to UCSF every 3 months to have MRI's and PET scans and the doctors were confident they would find it. On April 12th, the day after my dad's 64th birthday, they found a second brain tumor. This one was quite larger and had grown significantly faster than the first tumor.

When I got the phone call that there was another tumor, we all knew he would not want to fight it, meaning doing surgery and radiation again because he had had so much vision loss (resulting in him having to surrender his drivers license, which he was none too pleased about) from the first tumor. The doctors gave him roughly 6 months to live. He passed away a month and a half later on May 29th, the day before Keagan's 8th birthday.

It is extremely hard to put my feelings into words. I go back and forth, whether or not I should write my feelings down, but a good friend of mine who had lost her father a few months prior said I would regret it if I didn't. So here it goes.

My dad was diagnosed with Valley Fever in his brain when I was 14. The doctors gave my dad a 1 percent chance of making it. Being a scared little 14 year old girl, I begged and pleaded with Heavenly Father to not take him away. My dad was everything to me. I told Heavenly Father, if he was going to take my dad, he may as well take me too.

He got better. So each year, I would pray for something different. When I was 16, I prayed that my dad would stick around long enough to take me to get my drivers license. Sounds petty, but we lived on my uncle's ranch and lived about 20 minutes from town, so he wanted each of us girls to know how to drive, just in case. I may have hit a horse trough or two in the process, but I have a lot of fond memories going on drives with him. When I turned 16, he drove my butt down to the DMV 6 times to take the test. I am a retard, I know. That's how many tries it took because I was too lazy to study. He was always such a good sport.

When I was 18, I begged Heavenly Father to keep my dad around, long enough to watch me graduate. Blessing granted, (nevermind the fact that he still loved me after graduation night AND still gave me a car).

When I was 20, I pleaded for him to let my dad attend my wedding. He was there and looked as handsome as ever in his tux. He was probably so glad to get rid of me that day.

And most importantly, I wanted him to be able to meet all of my babies. He did. All 3 of them.

I got everything I asked for.

Several people have asked me if knowing ahead of time that my dad was going to pass away made it any easier. I don't know if easier is the right word, but yes, I do. We made the most of the past few months with him. There were lots and lots of trips to California. Lots of just sitting, talking, crying, smiling at each other, and lots of "I love you's." I asked him who he was the most excited to see, and he said, without hesitation, his mom and Ben. My mom says those two turkeys are probably up to no good now. But most of all, there were no regrets. Nothing left unsaid between the two of us. The last time my dad was alert enough to have a bit of a conversation, as I was leaving to come back home he said, "I'm going to miss you Honey." That's all I needed to hear. I know he is in a better place and feels well. I know he is with his parents, and Ben. And his dogs. And his horses. All is well.

We had so many spiritual experiences as a family before he passed away. Just as I thought this whole thing could shake my testimony, it has only grown. I have an ever-growing testimony of the power of prayer. Prayers were definitely answered over the past 10 months. My prayers became different - not prayers of pleading with the Lord to spare his life, because we knew that was not an option. It was extremely painful, coming to the realization that we needed to ask Him to help him not suffer and die peacefully. Those were hard words to swallow. To this day, Swayze still prays that the doctors will be able to "feel" (heal) Grandpa, and prays that he'll feel better. I don't have the heart to get her to stop. She knows he's not alive anymore, I think she just says it out of habit. It's just too sweet.

I was talking with my mother-in-law a little while ago, and she said, "You know, you are SO lucky, because you have a huge piece of your dad with you still. Tag looks just like him. He acts like him too." It's so true. Tag told me, just this morning that he's 50 percent cowboy, "Because of Grandpa." Made me smile.

I would give anything to talk to him, even for 20 seconds. Sometimes, I'll even call his cell phone to hear his voice on his voicemail. I'm weird like that.

Thanks for being my dad. I miss everything about you. I'll love you forever. Can't wait to see you again.

Little Sis, Andi, my mom, yours truly, and Big Sis, Kim.

Brother and sisters, Margaret, Jeanette, Heber, Elsie, Ann and Johnny. My dad was the baby.

My beautiful cousins.

The Fam.