Dad lived in an apartment because it was extremely close to work. My mom didn't want to move us out of Great Neck. The most touching part of this is that his Beagle, Snoopy, (who is mine now) stayed with my dad the entire time. He didn't bark at us when we were at the door or anything. He just lay on my father's chest. Anyway, they did an autopsy (even though my mom and I already knew how he died) and he was buried in St. Johns cemetery at the end of the week. The funeral was so hard. My boyfriend sang the Ave Maria. (He goes to LaGuardia and is an amazing opera singer.) His singing touched my heart. Sometimes I wish I've never heard him sing that, but I can't change it.
Jesus needed daddy with him. Daddy couldn't make it anymore. He needed to be with God. God took him a bit too early. Dad was 47. Drugs really do kill. I swear to myself I will never touch any of that crap, drugs, alcohol, NOTHING. I've lived through an experience to show me exactly how dangerous these things are. I'll never touch any of it. I owe it to Daddy, and to myself. Thank you for taking the time to read this. I know it is kind of long, but it's a life lesson. I LOVE YOU DADDY!
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