My dad is dying.

He’s still here. We still talk. He still makes jokes.

But now there’s a timeline, and it changes everything.

I’ll be in the middle of a normal day and it hits me. This isn’t forever.

Then my mind goes somewhere I don’t even want it to go… counting how many times I might still see him. And right after that, guilt.I live in Brazil. He’s in Canada.

So there’s this constant feeling that I should be there more. Calling more. Doing more.At the same time, I’m still living my life here like everything’s normal, and that tension is hard to explain unless you’ve felt it.

What surprised me most is what it’s done to my family.

Years of distance, tension, small things that used to matter… gone.

Now it’s simple. We just want to be good to each other while we still can.

We say “I love you” now.

We never used to.

And it’s strange how something that small becomes the only thing that matters once time feels limited.

This video is about what that actually feels like, day to day.

The mix of sadness and gratitude.The pressure to show up properly.And what it really means to be a good son when things get real.

If you’ve lost a parent, are going through it, or know it’s coming someday, this will hit close.

#33 - Tell Your Dad You Love Him Before It’s Too Late