Conversations with Kellie

I don’t really know where to begin but I knew it was more than a Facebook status, so I’m writing a blog. Thirty-Seven years ago, I lost my dad, Paul Orshoski, Sr. - I was 16. I remember that day as if it were a scene from a movie that I have watched a hundred times. I visited him in the morning. He wasn’t talking, we communicated by looking into his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes.   I could tell he knew I was there.     He had lost most of his hair and he was so thin. Cancer. Being a sixteen-year-old, I didn’t fully understand how sick my dad really was. I thought he was going to get better, I really did.   I babysat my twin nieces that evening and had been talking to my mom and sister at the hospital on the phone. (We didn’t have cell phones to keep in touch back then) When my sister got home, we rushed to the hospital. The image of him lying in that hospital bed, lifeless, is an image I will never forget.   Sometimes, the memories coming flooding back as if it was yesterday, a