I hate cancer for taking my beloved daddy as I have never felt sooo lost in my life since mean cancer stole him from me, my two sisters and our brother in March 2019. I didn't even get to give my daddy one last kiss or cuddle before evil cancer picked on him.
I know that my daddy wasn't on his own when my nanna (my late daddy's late mum) came for him (that's how my mum told me that evil lung cancer had taken my daddy) came fir him as there was a lovely nurse sat with him and listening to him talk about my middle niece, who is a granddad's girl, who is 9 years old in January next year, she was diagnosed with global development delay when she was two years old.
My daddy gave my niece the nickname "my princess".
I remember my youngest sister, my nieces mummy, saying that ( I can't remember if it was just after our nanna came for our daddy or if it was just after his funeral) she was stood looking out of the window with my middle niece and she'd asked my niece "where's granddad?" and my niece pointed to the sky and my sister praised her.
