A Letter To My Dad Who Died From Cancer | 4 Years In Heaven + My Heart Hurts

This is a picture of my dad and mom in Mexico when they married on 12/11- a long long time ago! I love this photo so much. It reminds me of young love and how my parents' union (through God’s miraculous power) gave way to my life. I cherish the memories I still have of my dad. He died four years ago during COVID times, and to say it was traumatic is an understatement. I have had the hardest time grieving him, and a part of my healing has been deeply journaling about my experience. It was his anniversary of going to heaven on Monday, 5/20/24. He’s been gone for four years, and I still feel like it happened yesterday. I feel a little nervous to share this letter with you because I wrote it at a very vulnerable time of grief. But writing it helped me so much, and I pray that if you read it, it ministers to any broken pieces of your heart and journey. I love you so much. May you know the hope of Jesus even in your loss and grief. In those moments of extreme pain, we find Jesus to be the comfort our souls need. Remember what the bible says in Isaiah 43:2 “When you go through deep waters, I (Jesus) will be with you.” May you be encouraged, beloved friend.

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A Letter To My Dad Who Died From Cancer |

4 Years In Heaven

I would be writing this letter in Spanish if you were here, but since you are in Heaven, you can understand me now! Bwahahaha!

Papa, I love you so much. I miss you so much. I wish I could see you right this second. Your 4th anniversary of being gone was yesterday, and I tried to write this to you then, but I couldn’t even type the first words without sobbing. So here we are today, trying again to tell you what I wish I could tell you in person right now. My heart hurts so badly. Ouch! Your absence is like an echo of love that wants to flow out of my heart, but is unable to land. I know you’re in Heaven—I mean, I believe you’re in Heaven. But it’s hard to actually believe in some ways. I do know you accepted Jesus with me before you died, and the Bible is clear that those who confess Jesus as their Lord will see God in Heaven.

“Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” -John 14:6

But sometimes, in my deep sorrow, I lose sight of where you are, and the grief consumes any good thoughts about the better place you’re at. I feel like a cloud comes over me, and I just feel so sad. I try to distract myself from the pain, but nothing works. I’ve tried to mask it with food—P.S., I gained 20+ lbs because of you! Ha! Emotional eating is real, mkay?! We are on our way back to dealing with the pain in healthy ways like walking, and weight training and I feel better than ever now. But man that was tough a couple years ago! Papa, I’ve tried to mask this pain with work and shopping. Things dissipate the pain for a second, and then it feels like I’m back to where I started or even worse. So I’m learning to feel the pain of your loss.

I’m learning to abide in Jesus daily with my huge blue cloud of grief.

I’m learning to accept that you are gone; Just like that, out of our lives—there’s nothing I can do to bring you back.

I’m learning that I did love you to pieces, even though our relationship was rocky and I’m still healing from some of the hurt!

I’m learning to find joy and peace amid all the pain.

I’m learning that joy doesn’t look like a smile.

I’m learning that even though you weren’t always safe, I felt safe around you.

I’m learning that I miss your laugh and smile and that they brought more joy to my heart than I would’ve cared to admit to you.

Papi, I just miss you. I wish I could call you and hear your voice. I miss your voice the most. You had a great one. I bet you’re singing in Heaven and you have some kind of radio job or something that uses that super amazing, calming, and soothing voice of yours that would give me utter comfort when you called every day. If I didn’t answer, you’d call even more times because you thought, “Oh, she didn’t answer that one time. Maybe let’s try five!”

My girls miss you so much too. It’s hard for them as well to have you gone, and it’s hard to see as their mom how much they are grieving your loss. The fact that you died on Haylee’s 7th birthday and right at the beginning of COVID-19 meant we couldn’t have a funeral for you. I walked into a store after you died and told my friend you had died, and she said, “Oh, well, I would hug you, but I can’t.” That’s what it felt like for me to have you die on my daughter’s birthday and during a world pandemic when it felt like no one cared. No one cared about my pain. I know that’s not the real truth, but that’s what it FELT like. One cousin called me to say they were sorry. Other than that, no one from my extended family called to say they were sorry. That was super painful. So lonely. I never got any closure from your death. It feels awful to say that, but that’s what I feel. I’m so sorry that I’m still so raw and hurting from it all. And if you were here, you would just listen to me and say something so simple yet so impactful. You would help me see it in a different light. Can you still help me see it in a different light?

It’s been so hard to hold all this pain inside.

I have felt so upset with God at times. I’ve felt disappointed at how it all seemed to unfold. From one loss to another. So much pain. Even other parts of my personal life were falling apart, and you were here for me and then not. It’s felt super lonely. I feel super lonely. However, I know that God has a plan and I want to trust him. I want to trust that God is still faithful and good, even when I don’t feel good or faithful myself.

Even at my lowest, I know that God has been with me. And even though it hasn’t been that much support, the little God gave me through those months and years after your death was enough. That’s when I saw the comfort of Jesus come through the pages of my Bible. Worshiping and praising him even through my extreme pain gave me a way to learn and lean into healing at Jesus’ feet day by day, sometimes minute by minute. Even though some days—most days—I can’t understand why it all worked out the way it did, I trust God and his purpose. At least the best parts of me want to. Some days I just fail, and I don’t. And I think that’s okay. Because God has faith for me and grace for me that is sufficient. In my weakness, he is strong for both of us.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

2 Corinthians 12:9

I can see his divine plan working as I unravel the pieces of the story. I can see all the growth of character God has given me over this trying time.

I hope Heaven is as amazing as it sounds. When I really do focus my eyes on you being pain-free and in the MOST PERFECT PLACE, I do feel happy for you. I am so excited about the fact that you have a house in Heaven that is filled with all the things you love and you get to be in the presence of God every millisecond I am so happy you get to enjoy the delights of the EXTRAVAGANT BEAUTY I’m sure Heaven has. ! Do you drink coffee there? I bet the music is amazing, and I hope you’re dancing every day like we used to, just in our living room! I miss dancing with you so much, Papi! Do they have mole? How’s my abuelita? I hope you are partying like it’s 1999! I am so excited to get to join you one day when my assignment here on Earth is done.

The other day, I attended my friend’s, dad's memorial, he died recently of cancer as well. I was so sad for them because I knew so closely what they were about to walk into: Grief Alley! They got to celebrate their dad’s life and give him a proper goodbye. They made a super special video of their dad that had me in tears. I will never forget the fact that God can use someone else’s story to help mine. I was so grateful to get to experience what I would have if I could have had a celebration of life for you. It impacted me when someone said that their prayers about their dad being healed were answered, maybe not in the way that we would see here on Earth, but ultimately going to Heaven is the total upgrade to cancer and all horrible things. The pastor talked about how amazing it was that they would no longer suffer here, but the minute they died here, they saw Jesus.

My heart needed to hear that for you, Papi. I needed to know that you didn’t just die, but you are risen with Christ and now live a perfect life. You are your best self, and the next time I see you, I’ll get to experience the BEST OF YOU, and you the BEST OF ME. I love you so much, Papi. I miss our Friday chats about God with Cafecito. Maybe in Heaven, you and I can drink matcha instead since I quit coffee CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? Well I did and you’ll have to try it. Haylee just graduated elementary school, Doug did an Iron Man race, Maddy is taller than me (sometimes) and we got the most adorable puppy in the world, Dodger and he low-key reminds me of you. hahahaha! He is such a character. Te extraño mucho, Papi. Te adoro con todo mi corazón de melon.

I miss you so much, HOWEVER, it’s not goodbye. It’s, “See you later, alligator.” - “After a while, crocodile.”

And just for good measure, I will make sure to share this mindset shift of focusing on the fact that you are enjoying Heaven with my mom, who misses you dearly. She is going to get to see you again and that makes me the most happy! I love you so much! Gracias a Dios, we are going to leave your legacy of a giving heart on this earth. You were El Tío of everybody and you would give the shirt off your back to see other people thrive. I love that about you. You gave to so many in so many ways because you cared deeply and because you knew God would always take care of you.

Thank you for being my father. I forgive you for everything. I know you know what that means. I mean it with all my heart.

Until we meet again…