I lost my Dad a little over 2 years ago. We had it very hard growing up, when i was a kid he played music in blues bands with my mom. He was a gifted guitar player, he could play like Jimi Hendrix and SVR type of style. When my mom left him, i was 6. He gave up on life and his dreams. He sold everything, and moved out of the city of Little Rock to a small wooded arena in south Arkansas. We live in a trailer with no running water, no septic system, and no money. He mowed yards and did minor odd jobs for what little money he could gain. As i grew up i found out he had 2 college degrees. One in electronics from Alaska and the second was a human anatonmy degree from UALR in Little Rock. He also was a ASE certified mechanic. He loved playing music and often played guitar late at night after my sister and i went to bed. As a teenager we had our disagreements. I hated the fact that he died in society, he didn't want to do anything. He never tried to better himself or get with the times. I swore that i would leave the small country town and make it in this world and show him up. After i graduated high school i moved and traveled all over the country. I finished out a broadasting degree in Oklahoma City. As the years passed he and i would chat and repair and rebuilding our once torn relationship. I finally got my big break being a producer for a sports radio station. I told him, he was happy for me even though he didn't care about sports. I had always loved the NBA. I applied for a job to produce the Oklahoma City Thunder radio games and got the gig. I called him and told him that i'm going to be working for the NBA. I really felt like i had done what i said i was going to do as an angry teenager. I never rubbed it in his face, I wanted him to move out of his house and in with me and my wife. December 16th 2013, i got the call that he had died suddenly in his home in Arkansas. I left on a plane and headed back to find, that he suffered a stroke about 5 months prior and never went to the hospital. He had a mental lapse due to years of smoking pot. The trailer he lived in was filled with rats and black mold. It was the hardest thing i ever had to see. I was filled with rage, Why? Why did he just let go? Why did he give up? To this day, i am so thankful for my life. I have a beautiful wife, a nice home, and a dream job covering sports. I feel like i never was able to give my dad a better life. For whatever reason, he just gave up. I'll never know why he gave up on life. I have to carry that pain with until I'm no longer living.