My dearest father,

I am wiping away tears as I write to you because I just finished watching the video again. I wish you were still here. kuv txiv es. Oh, how there are so many things to update you on. Since I last wrote to you, I did turn 30. Right at the same moment I came in to the world 30 years ago, I was at a Kmart looking for my first floral arrangement to bring to your gravesite. And when I got to your grave and placed the calla lilies there, it felt so empty. I guess I just missed you calling me and telling me "Happy birthday Sias-Lis" . I listened to all my voicemails hoping that maybe I had saved one of your messages for me, but I guess I must have deleted them. How was I to know these messages would stop coming? That you would stop calling me. I wanted to hug you so much on my birthday Daddy--so much that I just wrapped my arms around the cold marble slab, the piece of stone that now holds a sketching of your beautiful face and your name, held it tight and cried quietly. Did you hear the words that my heart spoke at that moment? Dad, can I confess to you, this was a terrible birthday. For all my birthdays, presents or parties or dinners never mattered much--I have always just wanted to be with my family. Remember how we have gone away the last 3 summers? The first was to Brainerd, the second was up north, and our last family trip was to that private lake in Wisconsin. But, we did not do it this year. I guess it just didn't feel right since you were missing. And sadly, from this birthday onward, you will always be missing. And it will never ever be the same again....

Well, I have been at my new job for a week now but I've managed to tear up already. On my first full day of clinic, mom and the family sent me the most beautiful flowers. The message mentioned that you would have been so happy if you were still here. I choked up as I read it, because I know this to be true. I still have the flowers on my desk, and every time I look at them, I think of you and how happy you are from wherever it is you now are...

She who keeps a picture of her father at her desk,
Me

Dearest Father,

I am writing you tonight because tomorrow will not only mark my 30th birthday, but also my first birthday celebration without a father. I will not get my usual call from you wishing me a happy birthday. Actually the other day, I eagerly looked through my voicemail hoping I still had a message from you. But I didn't. I know that if you were alive, you would have called me so. You never fail to. You always told my I had a real birthday, an accurate one unlike yours. I miss you so much dad. Tomorrow, I will be taking Mom to her first appointment with the orthopedist to discuss about her knee problem. I will take good care of her Daddy, so please don't worry about her. Just bless her and keep her healthy, okay?

Also, I got the message from Liz. I don't know why I have not seen you in a while Dad, but it would be nice to see your face again--it would be a wonderful birthday present for me. I heard you visited Liz in her dreams and had given me $40 for my birthday. I will stop by to see you on my birthday Daddy. It's days like this I miss you dearly.

Did you know that Seng and Txiv Laus had their baby? Remember, the one they told you about a month before you left this world? It's a healthy 6lb10oz baby and boy can it cry. They want to honor you and so they are hoping to incorporate your name into the baby's Hmong name. I didn't ask her, but I'm sure Seng cried after she had her baby because she knows you aren't going to ever get to hold her baby boy.

Please continue to bless the family. I will try to have a happy 30th birthday,
-Your daughter

Daddy,

Hnub no ua li cas kuv cia li nco koj ua luaj? Kuv rov qab saib daim slideshow video txog koj es hnov koj lub suab xwb mas ua rau ntws kua muag. Koj puas paub hais tias koj twb xiam ntev tshaj qhov sij hawm uas peb paub hais tias koj mob cancer lawm nab? Cav zoo li lub sij hawm mus sai kawg nkaus tiamsis lub siab tseem nco koj tshaj lawm thiab. Koj puas hnov kuv thov rau koj thaum kom koj pov hwm kuv thiab Fumyej wb thaum wb nce nyahoom mus xyuas tebchaws, nab, Daddy? Thaum twg kuv hu koj muas, tsis xav los, cas kua muag twb ntws lawm na. Kuv tsis tau xav txog hais tias thaum tseem hluas npaum li no es twb hu kuv txiv pom hwm kuv lawm.

Txiv, koj puas hnov kuv niam hu rau koj thiab na? Nws tseem nco koj tshaj plaws, nws tsis paub ua dab tsi tag lawm. Nws nyob hauv tsev los kho siab tshaj plaws. Tsis hais kuv niam xwb, tag nrho peb cov menyuam los yeej nco koj ib tug mus rhau ib tug tibsi. Koj puas pom koj tus nkauj ntxawm xa paj tuaj rau koj txhua lub sij hawm? Koj puas pom Susie nqa khoom txom ncauj tuaj rau koj txhua txhua lub vasthis? Koj puam pom cov pob zeb liab es Xeem thiab txiv laus nkawv nqa puag nram Colorado tuaj rau koj los? Losis thaum Vam, Mim, thiab lawv cov menyuam tuaj quaj thiab tuaj phlws cov daim txiag pob zeb es quaj vim lawv tsis muaj txiv lawm na. Tej zaum kuv xav rau kuv tus kheej hais tias, tsuav yog kuv txiv tsis txom nyem xwb ces txawm kuv quaj thiab nco kom npaum li cas los, tsuav tus mob kov tsis tau koj ces, kia peb cov nyob tom qab no quaj xwb. Cia koj tau lub kev vam meej thiab kev zoo siab xwb.

Daddy, kuv twb tag kuv txoj hawm lwm nram lub haumaum qub lawm ces los so ib ntus saib ntawv ces mam pib txoj tshiab thaum lub 9 hli no. Yog koj tseem nyob ma ntshe kuv twb tuaj tos koj mus nus ntsev lawm....

Tus ntxhais ua nco nws Txiv lub suab luag,
Kuv

Dearest Father,

Mom is somewhere on a cruise ship on her way to Mexico -- although she is far, we all know her heart still remains with you and she has promised to bring back to you some sand from Mexico. We all know this will be a good escape from her sadness but every happy moment for her will be a sad and constant reminder that she is experiencing it without her very best friend. She called me during her layover, crying because she ended up calling your cellphone (the one we have not allowed ourselves to cancel just so we can hear your voice when we call) and left you a message letting you know that she missed you and that she was okay. Remember, when you were still alive, you'd worry so much about Mommy--that she'd get lost or lose her luggage? We cried over the phone together . . . I tried to cheer her up but it's hard to do when you're crying yourself, you know? Sometimes, I hate myself for not taking you on a trip before we started chemotherapy. I guess, like everyone else, I was just so hopeful for a different outcome. I miss you Daddy.

Anyhow, my mother's cruise was a purposeful decision by Z because she did not want to be around to remind herself that she has no father this year. This Father's Day will be our first without you. If you were still here, I think I would have bought you that electric knife sharpener you were talking about with excitement during our clinic visits in September. Remember how I was supposed to take you to pick it out at Home Depot when you were feeling better? Well, that "feeling better" part never happened and you left this world with one less wish fulfilled. I sometimes wonder if you purposely delayed buying this because you knew that you weren't going to get better...Was it just to give me false hope? I fell for it until the very last week of your life. You were always so darn selfless that way. But I love you for that. We never got to say proper goodbyes, but I guess even if I had a month to say goodbye, I'd still not be satisfied. Well, come Sunday, Daddy, I'll be sure to bring you some beautiful flowers and steak to celebrate Father's Day with you.

Your forever daughter,
Me

PS, I bet you must've gained some weight since you've left this world because Suze and Mommy drop food and drinks off for you several times a week? Anyhow, I'm quite eager to see you in my dreams again as they are becoming infrequent and I miss being alongside of you...

Dearest Father,

Just the other day, we visited you at your new home. And, maybe, you'll be happy to know that I did not leave you with any tears this time. I brought you a piece of Famous Dave's ribtip I ate for lunch earlier that day. Fuyei left it for you and said a few words. I believe you tried Famous Dave's food once before and to my surprise you actually liked it. But never as much as you loved steak. You love for it makes it hard for me to eat it these days without thinking of you. Speaking of food, I have yet to make laj since your death, your other favorite meat dish. I believe that was probably the last dish I ever made for you with my own hands. I loved making that dish for you too, I even took the long painful route of panfrying the beef and then slicing it thinly because that makes the best laj. I slaved over it for several hours while you lay there in the hospital awaiting my arrival and refused to eat much else because you were saving your stomach for the laj. Dad, oh, how much I miss preparing you your favorite meals.

And that is just the beginning of all the things I miss about you. I miss having a father next to my mother. I miss having someone ask me "Have you remembered to change the oil in your car?" I miss having to make your appointments to follow with your cardiologist over such trivial issues such as your elevated triglyceride levels. If I'd had know that when we stopped at my house after your last oncology visit, that it would be the last time you visited my home, I would have never let you leave. I had so many memories still to write in that house with you dad. You were supposed to hu plig for my future children. You were supposed to eat more of the steak I was to prepare on my charcoal grill. You were supposed to watch your favorite Kung-fu movies on the projector downstairs. You were supposed to still be here. I still can't believe it--I will be 30 and fatherless. I am 29 and fatherless. And although I know you are still here with me daddy in spirit, you know I prefer you here in real life.

But despite all my heartaches and yearnings to have you return to me, I know, I must continue to trudge forward. You will be happy to know I have a job lined up. I know you will be happy because I have chosen to work with refugees in Saint Paul. How could I not? You always reminded me to remember to share what I know with those who need it the most. I will continue to do that my dear father.

By the way, I've missed you in my dreams. It's amazing how my dreams have evolved since your death. Initially in my dreams, I knew you had died but returned because you missed us or were happy with how your funeral was being planned. Lately, my dreams have been centered around your cancer...the knowing and anticipating your last breath. Ine the last one, we (you, mom, me, and some of the sisters) were walking with you around the state fair when you became quite fatigued. I carried you on my back and we tried to find our way back home...checking along the way if your heart was still beating.

There are many things I still have a hard time understanding Dad. But I do know that your heart beats in me. Just so you know, I hug your son for you each time I see him now. Because I know he needs that, and I know you would do that for him if you were still here.

The girl whose eye make-up will surely not look good on her puffy eyes tomorrow,
Your daughter

Dearest Father,

Tomorrow will mark 2 months since I watched you take your last breath in the arms of my brother. To be honest with you daddy, it was probably one of the most painful moments I've had to endure. I remember that because I pulled away for a bit and Seng had to encourage me to keep holding on to you so we would know when your spirit left your body. I cried out loud that day and continue to cry in my heart every day. Every time I walk up to the 5th floor of the hospital, all the memories come back to me--when lifted your covers and told me I could put me feet there so that I wouldn't get too cold, when we shared our last cup of coffee, when I held your hands as we went down for the last procedure you would have. Oh, dad, we have so many memories before that time that were so happy, but I always come back to those last few months. The other day as I was talking to Mom she told me that I should ask you to help me so that I could get a job that I am interviewing for. We both started crying because we knew that if you were still here, you would have called me and said "Good luck daughter. I love you." She reminded me how proud you were of my accomplishments and that she was just watching the part of the video where you cried talking about how happy you were that your children had grown up to be successful--something you never got the chance to do. Now that we've released your spirit, may you too get a chance to experience the love and support you gave us all these years. I hope you enjoyed the steak and beef jerky I brought you the other day.

The daughter who got lost for 15 minutes in the cemetery but now knows where her father's new home is,
Me

Dearest Father,

I am crying as I write this letter to you. I know that I should really be focusing on my lecture for the residents tomorrow, but I just miss you too much right now. Yesterday was a very emotional day for me and mommy. She's been having stomach pains since your funeral and didn't let me know about it until Monday. I remember what you kept on telling us in your last messages about doing everything we could in our power to love and care for mommy since she did her best to love and care for you. So we forced her to go see the doctor yesterday. I got off work early to take her. She couldn't find her insurance card and was convinced you "took it all" when you left this earth. She even managed to misplace her medications that she was supposed to bring with her to the doctor's visit. I got to your house and tried helping my mom. The first thing I did was look through your wallet Daddy. And the moment I did, the tears immediately started. I remembered all those times I'd watch you pull your driver's license from your wallet with your fingers for me to check you in at the oncology clinic-- and how difficult it was for you to remove it from your wallet because you had lost sensation in the fingertips from the chemotherapy-related neuropathy. I pulled out your ID and brushed my fingers across your face. Oh, how I miss your smile Dad. And behind that was old receipts you got from the pay-at-the pump--really the only thing you ever charged on your credit card. I remember I taught you how to do that too. Your wallet brought me so many wonderful memories of you and at the same time it made your departure all that more real too.

Once we got to the doctor's office and into the exam room, mom and I cried several times, both to the medical assistant and to the doctor. It was very hard for mom because it was always you who accompanied her to to visit--and here I was, in your place.

The other day, FX and I made some steak and before I ate some, I cut off the best piece that had a little bit of fat, and saved that for you. I will bring it to your resting site, just like I promised I would. I remember how I used to spoil you with steak these last two years whenever we'd go out. You loved eating it too. You always referred it as "thooj nqaij nyuj." The last time we went was after your last chemo session--it was you, mommy, va, uncle cher shoua, suze and me. We all had the ribeye and it was delicious. You ate it all, and afterwards felt terrible, but still enjoyed it. And I thought, maybe, you were getting your appetite back, but that was not the case....

Daddy, what are you doing these days? Do you peek in on us and make sure we're doing ok without you? I know that Va cries every night when he leaves a plate of food for you at the dinner table. All your daughters cry too as does Mommy. I don't think there is a single dry face among the children. We all still terribly miss you.

Anyways, Daddy, don't worry about mommy ok? We're taking care of her.

Hope you are having fun with grandpa, enjoying the variety of foods that have been left for you, and that you most importantly are painfree.

Hoping to see her dad in her dreams once more,
Me

Dearest Father,

It has been 1 month, 6 hours, and 20 something minutes since you took your last breath. As I was making dinner tonight, I thought about you. And, I always come back to myself. How could I have prevented your death...getting the cancer diagnosed earlier, keeping you strong and upbeat as you dealt with the cancer and chemotherapy. There have been many times in my life which I would think, "Oh, I wish I could turn back time to redo that." But, if there was ever a time where I truly wished this, it would be March 2010. If there ever was such a wish to be granted, that would be mine. Maybe if it had been found during that CT scan, you would have had a fighting chance, and we would not be so heartbroken having to live without you. But, as you moved on after your father died, I know I must as well. Even after grandpa's death, you listened to his voice on the tape player as you drove to work every day--for nearly 15 years you did this. I will miss you and remember you just the same dad.

I found it quite odd today, on the 1 month anniversary of your death, that my car suddenly died on me in the middle of the freeway. The technician can't seem to figure out what happened. But as quickly as it died, it appears to have started up again. I wish this was the case with you, daddy.... I miss you.

She who misses her daddy,
Me

Kuv Txiv,

Tsab ntawv ua kuv sau rau koj no tsis yog ib tsab ua kuv tau xav hais tias kuv yuav tau sau hnub no. Tiamsis, yog li npau suav phem, es xav kom hnov rheev hais tias koj tseem nyob nrog peb los cas yuav tsis yog npau suav lawm os kuv txiv. Cas thaum twg kuv npau suav pom koj es ua rau kuv zoo siab tshaj plaws hais tias zoo li koj tseem nrog peb nyob, ua peb luag es ua rau kuv muaj zog mus ua hauj lwm. Vim li cas thaum koj mob tav no, txoj kev zoo siab thiab mus nrhiav kev lom zem los tsis ua rau kuv zoo siab kiag li. Koj lub ntees los, kuv niam thiab peb cov me tub menyuam mas npaj tsheej hnub kom koj lub ntees zoo es, hnub no mam li nco nrhees hais tias tsis tshuav hnub ntev ntxim lawm es peb yuav rov pom koj ua zaum kawg, uas yuav plws koj taub hau thiab tuav koj txhais tes ua zaum kawg tiag tiag li os. Kuv nco qhov sij hawm uas kuv thaum twg kuv ntsib koj es kuv khawm koj thiab hnia koj plhu es hais “Hi Daddy” es wb sib luag vim txoj kev hlub ntawm ib tug txiv thiab nws tus ntxhais. Cas kuv yuav nco koj lub me ntsej muag uas twb tsis tau txoom ntau oh kuv txiv tus siab zoo.

Koj puas paub hais tias kuv nco koj tshaj plaws hnub os kuv txiv es nws ua rau kuv xav vwm nstuav hais tias peb tsis txhob zais koj lub cev es peb muab koj khov ua nakuab kom thaum twg peb nco koj txhais tes los tsis nco qab koj lub ntsej muag lawm ces peb khiav tuaj ib pliag es plhws ib pliag kom zoo lub siab. Tiamsis yuav txog caij peb sib ncaim tiag tiag li kuv txiv vim yeej ua tsis tau li ntawv—thiab yog ua tau los koj twb yuav hais tsis tau ib lo lus los phlws tau kuv tob hau. Tej zaum kuv xav hais tias yog peb ua dabtsi yuav kev rau lub ntiaj teb no es thiaj li ntsib txoj kev sib ncaim ntxov npaum li no os Txiv.

Kuv niam qhuav paub tsis ntev no hais tiam muaj ib zauj koj tau hais tias yog koj rov los ua neeg no, koj kuj ntshaw los ua ib tug thaj maum vim koj tau lub meej mom thiab qhov tseem ceeb tshaj plaws mas koj pab tau neeg thaum lawv muaj mob muaj nkeeg. Thaum kuv hnov qhov no, nws ua rau kuv zoo siab vim hais tias koj yeej zoo siab kawg nkaus hais txawm koj tsis tau kawm ntaub ntawv los koj tus ntxhais tau mob siab es cuag tau koj txoj kev npau suav es yej zoo koj lub siab lawm. Tiamsis hauv kuv lub siab mas ua rau kuv tus quaj vim hais tias thaum kawg thaj maum pab koj dim tsis tau koj qhov mob phem no, es koj tau ncaim peb thaum koj tseem tab tom yuav tau txais txoj kev zoo ntawm peb cov menyuam xwb.

Txiv, thaum peb muab koj lub cev mus zais lawm es, ntshe thaum muaj ib qho ua rau kuv zoo siab lo kuv yuav quaj vim tsis muaj koj nyob nrog kuv zoo siab. Thaum muaj kev chim los ntshe kuv yuav quaj ib pluag vim tsis muaj koj ntxias kuv kom kuv zoo siab. Txawm hais tias kuv twb yuav txiv lawm los, nco ntsoov hais tias kuv yeej yog koj tus ntxhais Shary no nawb. Yog koj los txia ua neeg los, thov nco ntsoov kuv ntsej muag es tuaj hais nyob zoo rau kuv nawb. Kuv yeej nco nco koj kawg os Daddy.

Thov ua koj tus ntxhais lwm tiam,

Kuv