My Papa

In July 2025, our lives changed in a way we never expected. What began as a medical evaluation for something else, led to an incidental finding: Papa had an abdominal aortic aneurysm. It came as a complete surprise. He had never complained of any pain or discomfort and he wasn't experiencing any symptoms.

The diagnosis left our family with a difficult decision. Knowing that an abdominal aortic aneurysm could rupture without warning, we wanted to do everything we could to protect him. After carefully considering the risks and hoping to prevent a life-threatening emergency, we decided that he would undergo open surgical repair. It was not an easy choice but we believed it offered him the best chance for a longer and safer future.

But life had other plans.

Instead of saving him, we lost him.

He wanted to live. We all wanted him to live.

In the quiet moments that followed, my sister and I each carried a burden that we rarely spoke about. I know she also wondered if we had made the right decision. We silently blamed ourselves, asking questions that would never have answers. Yet despite our grief, we stayed strong for the rest of the family because we knew that was what Papa would have wanted us to do.

Papa, I wish you were still here with us.

I'm going through something right now and I find myself longing for your wisdom, for the way you always looked at life's problems and somehow made them seem bearable. There are so many moments when I want to call you, to hear your voice, to ask, "Pa, what do you think I should do?"

I miss you more than words can ever express. I hope you knew and I hope you still know, how deeply you were loved. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.