- by Quin Cullen, Grade 5

Tony Cullen, my father, was a great person. He and my mom grew up together in Ithaca, New York. My father was the youngest of six children, two girls and three other boys. He attended Ithaca High School, where he got straight A's. He went to Hobart College, just like all of his siblings did, but transferred to Duke University after one year.

My father had played lacrosse his whole life, and he was good. He had a lot of moves that couldn't be beat. He brought lacrosse to Duke University, played on the team he created and coached it once he had graduated. He made the team good enough for the school to be able to afford. Slowly, they got better, won games, and, eventually, offered scholarships.

When the team was set, Dad decided to resign. He came home to stay with his family: my mom, Megan, Eamon, Rory, Kaity Shea, me, and Ainslie--the six Cullen kids. He was one of six, so it was only natural that we ended up with six.

The summer Dad was diagnosed with cancer, I was six years old. I didn't understand that it was life-threatening. Everything seems so surreal when you're six.

Dad didn't get better. In fact, because of his Crones, he got worse. He would get a rash from Crones that only the sun could cure, but the sun was what was killing him. Dad's melanoma got worse and worse, and eventually he couldn't get out of bed. I still went to school, but I didn't talk much, not even to Gracie, my best friend.

My dad passed away on Cinco de Mayo 2001, the Mexican celebration of freedom. The next school day, I went to my first-grade classroom trying to pretend nothing was different. I knew it was. I knew I would never see my dad again in real life, only in dreams and pictures.

Before he left us, Dad gave us all one more present. We moved in on May 3rd. Dad lived in that house for two days before he left. For the next three years, we took every Cinco de Mayo off from school, until I was in fifth grade and Megan, Eamon, and Rory were freshmen in college. I felt sorry for myself for a while, but then I realized: I'm not the one who had my life cut short. I probably won't leave my family 45 years into life. Dad's the one who labored his whole life and never had the time to have a break.

Today, I remember Dad. I know he watched the Carolina Hurricanes win the Stanley Cup and I know he watches us. He's not on Earth, but he keeps us safe.