Dedicating this Rockets Season...

I've been holding off posting this thread, but it felt like something I wanted to do. I figured i'll do it now, cause i just have this feeling to do it.

I want to dedicate this 2005-2006 Rockets basketball season to my dad.

He passed away late Saturday night, early Sunday morning at M.D. Anderson Hospital I guess from complications do to cancer. I forgot the name of the cancer, but it affects the head, neck, ear area. I think it was mostly nasal and neck though. He was diagnosed with this around late 1999, or 2000. I can't remember. He went through the cheamo stuff, and some radiation stuff, and it affected the nerves in his jaw where it made it difficult for him to talk, and eat. He was "62." His birthday was going to be in six or seven weeks.

Last Wednesday, November 9th, he woke up having trouble breathing. He was basically wheezing. We didn't know wheather to call 911, or take him to MD Anderson. It was only around 6 AM so we figured there was no traffic yet. We instead opted for 911, and it took him to Willowbrook Methodist. We rather would have taken to MD Anderson because it has his stuff there, and things that may help him. He eventually got transfered to MD Anderson. They ran tests on him, and all that stuff, and kept him overnight, but as time went on, it got worse. Friday was Veterens day, and a day off for City of Houston employees, so I had a free day. My mom wanted me to stay the night and watch my dad. I did. He was looking terrible. I felt bad. I sat there in the room, looking out the window saying man, this may be it. Then, the doctor wanted to talk to me outside. They already told my mom, and my other family members. The doctor hasnt told me yet.

She pulls me to the side, and tells me, there isn't much we can do. We are just trying to make it eassy and comfortable on him. At first my thought was, okay, when is he going to be discharged? Then I was like, wait a minute, comfortable and easy on him? That's when **** hit the fan. I go back in the room, and look at him.

I was like damn, dudes going to die. I wasn't anticipating this. I honestly thought he would live forever. Or atleast longer than this.The nurse told me to hold his hand. He can feel you. The last thing to go is a sense of touch and hearing. If you talk to him, he may be able to hear you. I squezed his hand a few times to see if i could get a reaction. No, nothing. Oh well. There will be another time. Later that evening, I was standing up near the end of the bed, and he brought his head up, and stared at me for a few seconds. I gave him the Kam head nod, saying sup to him. He stared at me for about four or five seconds, I guess to acknowledge it, and slowly put his head back down. That would be the last time, we would see each other eye to eye,

His breathing was still bad. Hell, it was getting worse. He would take quick breaths, and then slow down all of a sudden, and there would be pauses of no breathing. That part is scary.

The sun rose again, and my phone rang saying that my sister and mom was coming to replace me.

I held his hand, and rubbed his arm a little bit, and squezed it one final time. That would be the last time I would ever touch him again alive.

The day went on and all that crap, and I tried to catch up on some sleep. I couldnt.

Eventually night came, and I was in chat doing play by play for the Rockets Nets game at #rockets. I wasn't ready to go to sleep yet, because I was still thinking about what the doctor said.

I watch a few episodes of the Fresh Prince, and eventually turn my tv off at about 12:30. I lay in bed, and try to sleep some. I eventually do, but it's not deep rem sleep or anything. At about 1:20 am, the house phone rings. I heard the first ring, and was kinda startled. I was like who the **** is calling. The second ring was, oh my ****ing god, don't tell me. My brother in law was sleeping over, cause his kids were here. My sister and two others were with my dad at MD Anderson. They called, he picked up, and broke the news. My mom was up, and was like worried, and of course she was. He gave her the phone, and she started breaking down. I had to hold her for a while. I never felt so low.

And we make it to MD Anderson on the sixth floor. I walk in, and I see his lifeless body. I look at his hands, and see his nails are pale. I look at his chest, and see no movement. I look at his mouth, and he can't even close it all the way from the radiation. LEt me tell you, that right there is symbolism. My dad was a talker, and he is still jawing with me to this day. My mom broke down, hell, my entire family broke down. I couldnt get any tears rolling, but I was pretty devestated. More family came in. More tears came out.

He will be buried this Saturday.

He came into this country from Cambodia. He and my mom and some of my older sisters settled in Houston. We could have settled in Washington D.C, and became Bullet/Wizard fans, Cleaveland and be Cavalier fans, or Lowell/Boston, and become Celtic fans. But nope, Houston it was.

He liked basketball, and soccer. He grew to love American Football, and those damn Oilers. He was picking up the Texans and was wondering why they would never throw the damn ball to Johnson.

But he liked the Rockets since the early 80s. He was a fan of Hakeem of course, and those other guys, and yeah, we got our championships in the mid 90s.

He didn't watch any preseason games this year, nor any regular season games. It's not that he didn't want to, I am sure he did, it's just that, he couldnt muster up enough strength to watch it.

This year, when I watch the Rockets, I will be assuming he will be watching it with me. He's going to tell me how I missed the McGrady-Spurs game because I was at work.


So a first round exit, or an NBA Championship, we would have enjoyed it together.