Traci Taylor Writes an Open Letter After Losing Her Dad

If you’ve listened to the Hawk Morning Show for any length of time, then you already know my dad’s story. For the last 15 years, I’ve shared pieces of his health journey on the air, sometimes with hope and relief, sometimes through tears. What you may not fully know is just how deeply that journey shaped my life and my connection to all of you.

My dad died today. The final chapter in the story of his life has come to a close. While my heart is shattered, it’s also full of gratitude for the way you’ve walked beside my family through every bit of this long, difficult journey. For 15 years, you’ve listened as I shared his health battles, his setbacks, his miraculous recoveries, and the hope my family has held onto time and time again. You didn’t just hear the story. You lived it with us.

How My Dad Led Me to the Hawk Morning Show

When my dad first got sick, my life looked very different. I was living farther away, building a career with my employer at the time, just doing what many of us do when life feels full and busy. But when dad's health began to fail, everything shifted. Being closer to him mattered more than anything else.

That’s what led me to Binghamton and to the Hawk Morning Show.

Joining the Hawk Morning Show meant I could be closer to my dad. It meant fewer miles between hospital rooms and home. It meant being able to show up when things took a turn, which they did more times than I can count. What I didn’t know then was that by making that move, I wasn’t just finding a new job. I was finding a second family.

The Fights You Prayed Him Through

My dad fought cancer and won. Truly won. Doctors were amazed. We celebrated. We breathed again. We thought maybe the worst was behind us. But cancer wasn’t the end of his fight.

After that came one major health issue after another. And when I say major, I mean life-threatening. ICU stays. Emergency surgeries. Ventilators. Moments where doctors told us to prepare for the worst. And then somehow, every single time, my dad pulled through.

He was stubborn. Strong. Determined. And surrounded by prayers. Your prayers.

Placing Him in God’s Care

So many times, doctors told us, this is it. And so many times, it wasn’t.

My dad bounced back when logic said he shouldn’t. He survived things that would have taken most people. We learned how to live in a constant state of guarded hope. Grateful for each extra day. Each phone call. Each laugh. Each “I love you.”

But bodies can only take so much.

This time, his body was simply tired. There came a moment when there was nothing left to fix, nothing left to try, and no more strength to borrow from tomorrow.

Where Suffering Ends

My dad didn’t lose. He finished. He fought with everything he had for 15 years. And when it was time, he chose peace. He chose rest. He chose Heaven. That doesn’t make the grief any lighter. But it brings comfort to know that the suffering is over, the fight is done, and he is with Jesus.

The Sacred Gift of Walking Together

I need you to know this: you've never been just listeners to me. You prayed for my dad. You asked about him in grocery stores and parking lots. You sent messages, cards, and words of encouragement after rough nights in the ICU. You cried with me. You hoped with me. You believed with me.

Over time, you became part of my family.

There is something incredibly sacred about letting people into your real life, especially the painful parts. You met me there with compassion, patience, and love, and I will never forget that.

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Thank You for Carrying This With Me

Thank you for the prayers that spanned a decade and a half. Thank you for caring about my dad as if he were your own. Thank you for giving me the space to be human on the radio, not just a voice behind a microphone.

My heart is broken. But it is also overflowing with gratitude.

I am so thankful for my dad. And I am so grateful for you.

Love,
Traci