Mine died last summer. I'm twenty-five. My parents divorced when I was six and I moved with my mom back to her home state two years after that. They both remarried. My dad married the woman he left my mom for, and she's an idiot. From then on, I would go and visit him some weekends, but he never really was a father to me. Every conversation we had felt like a job interview with some joking around thrown in. I felt no bond, no closeness. He was diagnosed with lung cancer at the end of February last year and died in the beginning of July. I visited him in the hospital and came and saw him when he was in home hospice care, and I would hold his hand, and I would cry, but it felt like I was crying because I never got what I wanted and needed from him and now I never would.