My father never found his kingdom on earth. The multimillion dollar inheritance that he often spoke of with such hope and promise would never be realized. That two dollars and fifty cents? I still have it today. When I first discovered in his wallet, among his belongings, I wept. Such a proud and successful man should never die with so little. I now keep it among my prize possessions in honor of what my father did leave me. He left me with something greater than a kingdom on earth. He left me with a desire and a passion to be the father that he couldn’t be with me. He left me with a thirst for love and family.
In the end when I think of my father, a number descriptions come to mind: bold, passionate, angry, driven. But I know that he loved me best way he could. In his own way, everything he did was for me. The way he lived his life and even the way he died. His cause of death was congested heart failure. Indeed my father had so much on his heart that his life could no longer bare his load. As a child I looked up to him, my hero, my standard, my hope. As a man I loved him so much, not for who he was, but for what he was striving to be. I finally forgave him for dying. I finally released him into eternity. God I hope I see him again. I hope that he is with you, complete and enjoying eternal life. My father was cremated and his ashes were sprinkled over a rose garden in San Jose. He would love to know that when people admired those roses, that they would remember him and his life, the beautiful black rose that he was.
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