The day we got the news that my father’s melanoma came back, and he only had a short time to live, brought me a small amount of joy. The doctors gave him a year to live and frankly, that was far too long. I wanted him to die because I wanted my money. I wanted the money I felt he cheated me out of in the sale of a company that I built. Although watching him suffer sucked, it was more about seeing this once proud and extremely active man be reduced to shuffling his feet and barely being able to function properly. It was pathetic to watch him waste away and I just wanted his death over with.
Before the return of my father’s melanoma, we had sold our family healthcare business. It was sold to a national company that had been buying complex rehab medical equipment businesses all over t