On June 15, 2013, I had the last face to face conversation with my dad. That day was an exceptional day for me because I had prayed that God would let me have one more good talk with my dad. I walked in his room at M.D. Anderson not knowing what shape my dad would be in because so much had happened that week. But my dad opened his eyes and it was as if I was looking at a little kid seeing his Christmas presents for the first time on Christmas morning. My dad's face lit up when he saw me. I gave him a hug and immediately he began to tell me how excited he was to see me and he asked who else came with me. My dad LOVED his kids and all knew that without a doubt. I told him that I brought him a notebook for him to write in and he told me to get it and bring him a pen. I gave my dad a pen and a notebook and watched my dad write for the last time. He wrote his name up the page and the letters a, b, c and d. It was like watching a child write for the first time. He held the notebook away so he could see his scribbling. I later found out that he didn't have his contacts in so he couldn't see the lines to write clearly. We had a nice little laugh about that as well because if you knew my dad, you knew he was blind as a bat. But what he said next shook me up. He held that pen in his hand and shook it and told me he had to write again. After seeing my dad struggle to write his name, I looked at him with tears in my eyes and I told him I would write for him. We had already talked about me writing his column From the Heart before he left for M.D. Anderson. He turned to me and looked me dead in the eyes. He asked if that was a promise and with tears swelling in my eyes, I told him that it was a promise. He proceeded to tell me that we had so much to tell. My dad always told me and my brothers that we all had the gift to write. He always told me that I had a story to share with so many little girls and that I needed to write. During the year I was preparing for Miss LA, we had started a cover for the book we were going to write together but unfortunately, that book was never finished. So here I sit tonight, fulfilling a promise I made to my dad on June 15, 2013. I WILL write for my dad. I wasn't blessed with his talent but please bare with me as I write what I feel my dad would encourage me to share with everyone. Next week, I will write about things that paralyze us. It's a topic I shared with my dad before he left for M.D. Anderson. I pray that as I write, my dad's words are able to appear so his passion can live on in all of us.
The sight that brings the deepest pride to a father's heart is his children proud of themselves.
Rose O'Kelly
That night my dad held my hand for the last time and as tears fell down his face, he told me how proud he was of me. I want to continue to make him proud.
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