Hello, my name is Veronica. I'm starting this fund for my dad who passed away Wednesday the 19th at 11:11 am. The back story is all my life my dad was gone. All I knew was he was a truck driver. I saw him here and there throughout my 55 years, but in 2024, I received a call from a nursing home in Alabama saying that my dad has been under their care and that they found my number. He told them that I was his daughter. I started taking over his care over the phone because he's in Birmingham, and I live in Milwaukee. I have a younger brother, but their relationship was never great because of my dad not being present.

Skipping forward, while taking care of him from Milwaukee, I had just moved my mom to live with me to take care of her. She's 78 and has dementia. I received a call on October 24th stating my dad couldn't breathe and that they were rushing him to the hospital. I immediately drove from Milwaukee to Birmingham to see what was going on. They gave him a trach to help him breathe, going into his throat. They found cancer. This is where my journey begins. I drove back home with the thought of them just giving him a laryngectomy, and things went down from there. I had made it home not knowing what to do because everything went down so fast that I had to figure out how to get back down to Birmingham. They said the cancer had spread to his collarbone. He started bleeding from the trach, so he needed to be put on a breathing machine, had a stent in his heart, blood clots in his legs that traveled to his lungs, and he's not a candidate for any surgery or chemo or radiology because it would be too aggressive on the body. They said, let's put him in hospice and make him comfortable. When you're ready, we'll take him off the machine.

I'm stuck in my head with all they said was no option, and I'm alone, except I know I have God with me. My dad has no money, no insurance, and the only sister he had passed away. So now I did all I could do to make him comfortable. I stayed by his bedside every day and night, praying, telling God that I don't think I can do it. I asked my dad if he knew how much I loved him and that I wanted him to know that I knew he loved me. I asked God if my dad could hear me to just send me a sign. He turned his head to me, and a tear rolled down his face. I jumped up and down, ran, and got my phone to record the moment. I repositioned his body to be comfortable. I sat down on the couch in the room. I had never posted anything about my dad on my FB, but I put up my first picture of my journey. I prayed and told God I didn't think I could take him off, but I didn't want him suffering. All of a sudden, I got this gut feeling like a push that said get up, go to his bedside. I knew then that God had answered my prayers. It was over. No more pain for him, but now my sorrow has begun. I thought I would be much stronger than this, but for some reason, this is hitting me differently.

So I'm asking for help because I'm still stuck here in Birmingham. I had to have his body removed, and I need to get a flight back home once I can take care of all these things here in Birmingham. I know that this is not one's responsibility but mine, but sometimes even the strongest can be weak and need a helping hand.