$$$ 4 Heaven
Eight years old. Eight years old, sitting at the kitchen table, playing with my Barbies and G.I. Joes, not a care in the world. That's how I was moments before my mother walked in the door, tears in her eyes, shirt ripped straight down to the navel, there to deliver the awful news.
“Bobby-boy...your dad...your dad is...DEAD!”
My beloved father, John Robert Shupeck, Sr., had been laid up in an oxygen tent for months, fighting a losing battle to lung cancer. We went to the church every Sunday, lighting candles, saying prayers, hiding from the priests lurking in the shadows, but with no luck. He was gone. My daddy was in hell.
Or WAS he?
I am a Catholic. I've denied my blood for years, but this is true. Love for Saint Mary, high priestess of the universe? Check. Drinking problem? CHECK. Unhealthy fixation with underage children? Well, let's just say I hit two out of three marks, and I'll leave it up to you to guess what those two things are.
Purgatory. My dad is in purgatory, head so close to the clouds, feet mere inches away from the burning stew of sewage and liquefied Hitler flesh. Nothing can help him...except your money. Your money, and your prayers.
I have set up this GoFundMe with the goal of getting my dad to a nice heavenly hospice, where he can sing with the angels, golf with Ronald Regan, and drink without a care in the world—without fear of contracting a crippling lung disease that will leave him prone and screaming, looking like a wounded soldier who stepped on a land mine during his march towards Normandy. That's my last memory of him. That's what a little boy had to see in his dreams every night as the darkness overtook him and all the laughter in the world turned to stifled, painful sobs.
Make my world bright again. Make his world bright again. Make me believe again. Make me love.
Please, send the money. My dad will buy you a shot the minute your family makes a GoFundMe and gets you enough prayers to get into heaven. (If they love you enough, that is.)
Anything below $10.00 is unacceptable.