Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
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by Cali
Rated: E · Monologue · Drama · #1077710
A young woman sits at the bedside of her dying father.
A woman talks to her dying father . She is at his bedside holding his hand. He is on life support, but they are ready to turn it off. She has requested one last visit.

Hi Daddy. There are so many things that I want to say to you that I should have said a long time ago. I just hope that somehow you can hear what I am saying now. I know that you blame yourself for the mess I have made of my life. Don't! You are my best friend. I will be so lost without you. You have always been there for me. You never judged. You loved me without question and you only talked about me with pride at my accomplishments. Daddy, you ignored my mistakes and that means so much to me.

I know you wanted a boy, but you got me. I am glad. I was your buddy growing up. I got to do all the things a boy would have done. You taught me so much. We shared a love of animals. When you brought that little dog to me when I was so depressed, somehow you knew it would help me to feel better. The best part is our love of horses. Remember the first pony you gave me? I was only eight. You kept it a secret and I was so excited when you brought her home. We rode every chance we got. you said I was a natural with horses. I think you were right. When I outgrew my pony (Lisa), you bought me another one. Remember Flicka. She was beautiful and she looked just like the Flicka in the book. Then there was Heather, my favorite. She was so good at barrel racing and I loved it!

One of my favorite memories was when we went camping. You and I got up really early and rode up to the top of that high peak. I remember how narrow the path was toward the top. I was afraid that my horse would miss a step and I would go plunging down the cliff. I didn't let you know, but I was terrified. When we got to the top there was that beautiful meadow. I remember yellow flowers and the stream. The Elk. He was drinking from the stream. He was the biggest elk we had ever seen. You told me not to go close, but I had to. Remember, Heather and I walked right up to him. He just glanced at Heather and I don't think he saw me. He just kept drinking and I reached out to touch him. That was when he realized there was a human there. He lifted his head and I was able to touch the soft muzzle of his nose before he bolted.

Then, there is the fish story. You told everyone who would listen that story. We went fishing with your three brothers. I insisted on baiting my own hook. You offered to put the squishy night crawlers on the hook, but I was stubborn. Then, I started catching trout after trout. Nobody else was catching anything. I remember Uncle David was so frustrated that he kicked a rock or something. After I caught my limit, they started having me bait there hooks, they were certain that I had something on my hands that the fish liked. We had a good dinner out of my trout.

I don't know whose shoulder I will cry on now daddy. Wherever you go, please watch over me and stay with me somehow. I will try to make you proud. I hope I see you again. I love you. Goodbye.

Kelly Whitlock
© Copyright 2006 Cali (wittygirl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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