Carousel

Dad used to take me to the old carousel at the carnival each year. Its painted horses spun 'round and 'round, and I felt like a princess riding them.

His eyes sparkled as he watched me. He'd laugh and say, "You're my little queen, sweetheart."

The carousel was our secret place, where time stood still.

But time didn't stand still for Dad. Cancer came, stealing his strength.

One day, when I already had children of my own, I saw a poster that said that carnival is back in town. I told it to my dad, and he said, "Let's visit our carousel one last time, my love."

I held his frail hand, tears streaming, as we walked to the park.

The carousel looked older now, but still beautiful in its own way.

Dad's smile, though weak, was as warm as ever. He waved when I sat on the horse, just like he used to.

When the carousel ride ended, he whispered to me, "Life's like this, my dear, a beautiful, never-ending ride."

I nodded, trying to be strong for him.

When we arrived home, he said, "Remember this carousel, my princess, and the love we shared."

Dad's last days were tender, filled with memories of laughter and love.

Now, when I see a carousel, I can't help but smile through my tears.

For John Bucher, my simple yet extraordinary dad, who taught me that love spins on forever.