Daddy and me

This kidney disease has a long history in my family. I am told it started with my grandfather who died from it at an early age. My dad also passed away with it at the ripe old age of 32. I pray every night that my children and grandchildren be spared from it. We have come a long way with dialysis and transplant over the years but more needs to be done. We need more donors more research into kidney disease and implanting artificial kidneys.
My daddy was my hero. A strong,soft spoken,hard working man. I was his constant companion and a real daddy's girl. My last memory of him was a week before he died. The toxins in his blood went to his brain and he was crawling around on our living room floor looking for the cats that he thought were there. I was 7years old and was so frightened at the sight of my dad slowly losing his mind. The man who carried me on his shoulders reduced to arguing with me over why he could clearly see cats and I could not. His hallucinations were followed by slipping in and out of a coma. In the 1960s there were not enough dialysis machines to go around. So a group of people nicknamed "the death committee" decided who received dialysis and who didn't. My daddy was the unlucky one. How fortunate we are  to have this machine today. I fight this disease for my dad who was not even given the chance to fight. May you rest in peace daddy. You are the bright star in the night sky,you are the gentle breeze in the morning sun.