Read Groomless - Part 1 for Free Online Page A

went through chemo, and I survived that too. Besides, once you’ve conquered Mt. Everest, there’s nothing you can’t do.”
    “Hell yeah.”
    I glanced at the picture on his dresser, the photo of him standing atop the famous mountain. He was much younger, wearing a thick blue coat, with his hood pulled up to protect himself from the harsh winter landscape. The view was stunning behind him as he held his arms high in victory. I knew he kept that picture beside him for a reason, to remind him of all the mountains he’d conquered in his life and to give him the strength to conquer this new one. For him, the mountain was a sign of hope, courage, determination, and a never-give-up attitude.
    A moment later, Dad’s fifty-year-old roommate pulled the divider curtain open and glanced at him. “What made you wanna climb it anyway, Bill?” he asked.
    My dad’s face lit up as the memory came back to him in vivid detail. “It was always a big dream of mine.”
    “Yeah, but there are more interesting mountains out there, more challenging ones, more beautiful ones. What made you choose Everest?”
    “Simple. It’s the biggest, ” my dad said.
    His roommate laughed. “Of course. You wanted a trophy mountain. I bet it was one heck of a self-esteem booster.”
    “Absolutely.”
    I was glad my dad had a good roommate and that he was housed in the skilled unit of the nursing home, a place dedicating to helping people get better so they could be released to go back home. My father was recovering from surgery and chemo, and he hoped to be released soon. Meanwhile, his cheery and encouraging roommate was there for physical therapy after a hip replacement surgery.
    As happy as I was that dad was recuperating, there were days when I simply wanted to bawl my eyes out about the entire situation. It was difficult to adjust to my father’s liver cancer diagnosis, and unsettling feelings of anger and frustration brewed deeply within. Cancer changed our family forever. My mom, bless her soul, died of lung cancer, so my daddy’s diagnosis was like some cruel case of déjà vu. He was all I had left, and I didn’t want to lose him.
    My father had always been the greatest, most loving, devoted, caring person I know. When I left to pursue my dreams, he was always my biggest supporter and cheerleader. He gave me the greatest gift any father could give his daughter: He always believed in me. He was the greatest husband and father the world had ever known, and he taught me the power of love and strength. He had the greatest sense of humor and could always make me laugh. Plus, he even loved the same music and movies as me, and that made him extra cool in my book.
    He loved my mother with the intensity of a thousand suns and never cheated on her. I always appreciated the wonderful role he played in my life, in helping me become all I wanted to be and could be. I appreciated him so much and was glad he was in my life. No matter what storms we endured, he was a pillar of strength, always there to support his family. Even battling cancer, he remained strong, patient, and focused, letting his inner strength be a guiding light in the darkness. Even when he was suffering great pain himself, he smiled and asked me about my day.
    The thought of him being in the nursing home often brought tears to my eyes, and I wished I could take the cancer away and give him back his life. Chemo had been tough, but we were sure he would beat his disease in the end. He had to, because he was my dad, and I loved him, and I sure as hell couldn’t live without him. In spite of all the disappointments and heartbreaks and losses I’d faced in life, I had to hang on to the glimmer of hope that everything would work out in the end. He had always taught me that no obstacle would be too big to overcome, no hurdle too high to jump, and I held tight to those words, willing myself to survive anything. 
    The nursing assistant walked into my dad’s room and set his dinner on a