For those who didn’t get a chance to meet Andy, let me tell you a little bit about him. Andy was my husband and David and Mia’s dad. A week before Christmas of 2013, Andy was diagnosed with mediastinal germ cell cancer. Through his battle, he had more than 30 rounds of chemo, radiations, high-risk surgeries, medical treatments, and ended up paralyzed until he passed away in 2015. Although we saw how brave Andy was in the last two years of his life, Andy was not just his cancer battle.
When someone dies, sometimes people only talk about the good things they did in this life, but they never talk about the bad things. But, in Andy’s life, there is no bad to talk about. Andy was incredibly loving and SO unbelievable funny—and sarcastic. He loved to play soccer and he grew up playing baseball, he loved music, his friends, his family and his dog. One thing that impressed me so much about Andy was that he never ever complained the entire time he was sick—or ever. He always had a smile, he was so positive, he saw cancer as a blessing, and he was not afraid of dying. He was such an amazing dad, such an incredible husband. Everyone who met him loved him.
Andy, I miss you, but I am pretty sure you are so proud of us. David has become what he promised you, an amazing little baseball player. He has his dream tight to his heart. He is just like you, he won’t stop until he becomes a professional baseball player. He is also doing amazing in school, he has straight A´s. (He hates school just like you but he also pushes himself, just like you.) He is playing the saxophone (which he hates), but he is such a good kid. He is loving, caring, a good friend, a good son, he looooves music and he is so handsome. You taught him well, and I know you are so proud of him.
And Mia, oh sweet Mia, “Your Little Princess,” like you called her! She is so talented too and very determined. She is doing great at gymnastics, flipping and jumping around the house. That girl is in everything, she is in the school choir, she takes yoga classes, drawing classes, and on top of that she is an excellent student and a great sister. She loves her new baby brother and gosh she is such a good babysitter. She is so healthy and strong, but she misses you and we talk about you all the time.
Both of them look forward to the future, but they still remember their Daddy. They both have your pictures and letters in their rooms. They are my favorite people to talk with about you. Time moves on, but the pain never goes away…
The other day when I picked the kids up from school, Mia got in the car and closed the door, but I noticed something was wrong. I asked her what was wrong. She started crying and asking why Daddy had to die—and why her classmates didn’t understand that pain she was feeling. It’s been 4 years and she still misses you so much.
As a parent I wish I had the right words for these moments. I wish I could be able to make her wish I could make their pain go away and bring you back. But I can’t and that is double the pain. First, for the loss; second for not being able to heal their hurts.
Now don’t get me wrong. I have a happy life. I remarried an amazing man who cares for David and Mia like his own, and we have added the cutest, happiest (and hairiest) 6 month old baby to our family. Life is good and we are so blessed, but the pain remains.
I love my family—with the new additions—but I miss Andy. I don’t want to bring it up to people. Most of the time, they don´t know how to handle the pain, so I keep it for those close to me. But yes, I do think about him often, and the pain never goes away.
I remember September 30th 2015, the day that he died, like it was yesterday. I wish I could always think about the happy moments, but today, all I can think about is when he took his last breath. That moment of peace mixed with horror and hysteria; that love that I felt when I finally hugged him without hurting him mixed with fear and sorrow; that quietness and end of physical pain mixed with pain in my heart. I never wanted him to die, I never wanted him to go, and when my kids asked me why, quietly in my heart I ask the same question. Four long years have passed by, and people went back to their life. We even did the same, more years will come and I am sure that the pain will never go away. We love you Andy.
