One More Conversation

It’s been awhile. A long while and a lot has changed. I say a lot because there is a hole in my heart.

My dad passed away on June 21st.

This daddy’s girl misses him so much.

This daddy’s girl wishes I could take the last year back, especially the last 7 months.

Diagnosed with Leukemia back in November, the family knew it was going to be a long, hard battle. A battle I was not familiar with.  You see I was disconnected.  This daddy’s girl is so much like my father, we often butted heads.  Long story short, in these last moments we were in butting head lingo.  No conversations, no holidays, no happy birthdays, no exchanges…nothing.

Here is where I can begin the I wishes.

I wish I had one more conversation with him.

I wish we both weren’t so hard headed.

I wish we could just forget and start anew.

I wish…

I wish…..

I wish……

But I know this…we loved each other.

When I flew out to Denver to see him in the hospital, he was already in induced coma and on a ventilator.  The days seemed long and the prayers seemed to go unanswered.  After four days, I flew back to Nashville.  That flight back was the hardest flight I’ve ever been on.  My heart was so heavy.  My mom and ours relationship began refreshed but emotions were high and the uncertainty of the future without him was heavy on her heart.  On the plane, I asked God to forgive me.  Forgive me for my selfishness. Asking God that the words I whispered in my father’s ear were heard and loved on.

I was home for one day and that evening, Jose and I packed the kids and drove back to Denver.  My mom called and said dad was at 90% on the ventilator and a decision was going to need to be made within the next two days.

My mom became the strongest woman I’ve met.  She knew that she didn’t want to make this decision alone.  As we made our way back to Denver and went straight to the hospital.  The doctors met with my mom and my siblings and began to tell us there was no hope.  That they have exhausted every avenue and that beyond a miracle, there was nothing else they could do.

Words no one ever wants to hear.

God…please…one more conversation.

I want to tell him I love him.  I want him to tell me one more joke. Make me laugh one more time.

Not this.

As a family, we decided to meet at 10am the next day to begin the process.

It was the longest night of tears.




No more details from this point, but that he is in a better place.  No more leukemia, no more chemo, no more bone marrow, no more pneumonia…WHOLE. Known to some as Papa Bures, I know he is keeping God on his toes with his sense of humor and his signature laugh.

His celebration service was beautiful. It honored the man he was and so many said that he would have wanted everyone doing just what they did, laughing and talking…no crying.

I spoke at the service honoring my father as he was our protector growing up.  When we got robbed on Christmas Eve morning and he heard the robber get in the car and leave, there was my dad running down the street in his underwear and a gun.

How he gave me a good work ethic. My parents married young and had me when they were 20. They didn’t have much and sometimes going without so that we could have more. My dad was a great provider. Working in the pickle factory or taking long trips away to places like Alaska with the Roofers Union to make ends meet. He always provided and felt it was his duty to work and not be lazy. To do things for yourself and not rely on someone to do it for you. He kept this work ethic even as recent as he was battling leukemia.

I got his great looks as some of the photos were seen in the video my brother produced for the service.  Think 70’s, big round glasses! Yep, only him and I.

My dad gave me his strength and his courage and even his stubbornness.

He was an amazing Christian man. He loved God with all his heart. He taught us where our Faith is. Through good times and bad, he never wavered.

Dad, I love you….

I miss you…