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Another Christmas to celebrate the gifts my father left behind

Every moment in our lives creates memories, memories that will keep others going when we're no longer here.

My siblings and I had a number of traditions when it was time to turn our home into Christmas Central.

My brothers would play their tunes, while my sister made sure our tree was perfect. My mother would be in the kitchen brewing up hot cocoa.

But the image that will never leave me is seeing how he would sit back and watch us all play a part in creating such a memory. It seemed like that was what he enjoyed the most.

The “he” I refer to is my father.

He was diagnosed with prostate cancer and, at my young age, I immediately believed I couldn't expect him to live for long once it metastasized.

But he never lost hope, regardless of how bad the news was each time we visited the doctor's office. He fought hard for years before the disease took him from us.

It is said time heals all, but trust me when I say there will never be enough time to heal such pain. The best we can do is learn to live with it.

The first holiday without my father was probably the hardest thing I've had to experience in my life. Due to such a bond that we had with him, as an 18-year-old, I turned to counseling to help me deal with such a loss.

My counselor suggested an activity to help me cope during those festive times. I refused to do it alone because I knew I wasn't the only one hurting and had my family join in.

It was so great to see everyone being so cooperative but they had no idea what I was planning.

I asked each family member to share with me a word that reminded them of my dad. I wrote the words on pieces of paper and put them inside a box, which I wrapped with Christmas paper.

On Christmas Eve, as we gathered around to open presents at midnight, I informed everyone that there was one gift for all of us but it was to be opened last.

The gift from my father was far more comforting than I thought it would be. It consisted of every quality, memory, or common phrases my father would use.

When it was opened, everyone picked a piece of paper and read out loud. The small pieces of paper contained words like strength, faith, knowledge, heroism, laughter, determination.

At such a difficult time for us, there wasn't one person in the room without a tear in their eye once we finished reading the papers.

The memories he left behind outweighed the heartache we endured and the difficulties we hadn't yet faced without him.

Eight years have passed in his absence and here I am, still standing, still fighting, just like he did. It's difficult, even infuriating at times because I feel like I hurt alone even if everyone around me is going through the same pain.

I constantly look at pictures of him and I can't help but smile at his crazy hair, or laugh as I share stories about our adventures. There is always something that reminds me of him and that keeps him alive in my heart.

Regardless of how many years pass I will always need my father even if it's just to sit back and watch the rest of us come together to put up a Christmas tree.

At first, I believed I couldn't continue living as a young adult full of life. I felt guilty if I was having a good time and I would shut everyone out.

Now, I've learned to grow from this loss and use it as fuel to keep going. My motivation to live life and enjoy it as much as he did comes from that gift he left behind.

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