@yetundejonesLionel Messi wrote about losing his father, Jorge, who died at 68 on August 8. The post is a long, personal goodbye that moves from shock to the final World Cup and ends with a real question about how much longer he keeps playing. He starts with the disbelief. "Dad, I still can’t believe you’re gone." It hasn't sunk in, he says, or he's refusing to let it. The idea of never seeing or talking to his father again is too hard, even knowing Jorge was suffering and that this was better for him. Still, it came too soon, with too much left to share. Jorge asked him many times to play one last World Cup. Days before it started, Jorge's health turned worse. It was the first tournament his father wouldn't attend, but Messi's mother kept saying he'd get better and travel. Messi kept telling his father they'd make the final so he could come. After every match, Messi waited for his father's message. When it didn't come, he understood how serious things were. Even so, he kept pushing to go as far as possible, to give his father more time and one more game to watch. They reached the final, and Jorge couldn't be there. Messi wanted to win it to bring the trophy to his father. He couldn't. His legs had nothing left, and he tried to push past what his body could handle. He never felt right. When he got back, Jorge thought they'd lost on penalties. They never got to talk about what happened. Jorge didn't get to enjoy any of it. They didn't become champions, but Messi says his father would have no idea how much they enjoyed every match. Once again, Jorge was right: Messi had to be there and play. He's writing this because it's the one thing they never discussed. Jorge already knew everything else. They talked every day and saw each other whenever commitments allowed. "I don’t know what I’m going to do without you." Messi says he doesn't know how to keep going. All he ever did was play soccer, and now he has serious doubts about continuing much longer. Jorge was beside him from the very beginning, and they were so close to the end. Messi asks why his father couldn't hold on a little longer so they could finish together. He knows Jorge's happiness was seeing his family well, his wife and children, and above all, without others noticing, watching Messi play. It was always that way since he was little. Jorge took him to every training session after work, and his mother covered many when Jorge was working. Jorge never missed a match. He suffered watching and enjoyed it, though he rarely gave much praise. "You were my dad, my friend and my agent." Jorge was always exactly who the moment needed, and he was never wrong. Beyond the occasional disagreement, he was always right. Things turned out the way he said. Messi will miss him so much, but Jorge stays present, especially in how Messi raises his children. He teaches them the way his parents raised him. "Rest in peace and watch over us from above the way you did here. Thank you for everything. I love you, Dad."

@yetundejonesLionel Messi wrote about losing his father, Jorge, who died at 68 on August 8. The post is a long, personal goodbye that moves from shock to the final World Cup and ends with a real question about how much longer he keeps playing. He starts with the disbelief. "Dad, I still can’t believe you’re gone." It hasn't sunk in, he says, or he's refusing to let it. The idea of never seeing or talking to his father again is too hard, even knowing Jorge was suffering and that this was better for him. Still, it came too soon, with too much left to share. Jorge asked him many times to play one last World Cup. Days before it started, Jorge's health turned worse. It was the first tournament his father wouldn't attend, but Messi's mother kept saying he'd get better and travel. Messi kept telling his father they'd make the final so he could come. After every match, Messi waited for his father's message. When it didn't come, he understood how serious things were. Even so, he kept pushing to go as far as possible, to give his father more time and one more game to watch. They reached the final, and Jorge couldn't be there. Messi wanted to win it to bring the trophy to his father. He couldn't. His legs had nothing left, and he tried to push past what his body could handle. He never felt right. When he got back, Jorge thought they'd lost on penalties. They never got to talk about what happened. Jorge didn't get to enjoy any of it. They didn't become champions, but Messi says his father would have no idea how much they enjoyed every match. Once again, Jorge was right: Messi had to be there and play. He's writing this because it's the one thing they never discussed. Jorge already knew everything else. They talked every day and saw each other whenever commitments allowed. "I don’t know what I’m going to do without you." Messi says he doesn't know how to keep going. All he ever did was play soccer, and now he has serious doubts about continuing much longer. Jorge was beside him from the very beginning, and they were so close to the end. Messi asks why his father couldn't hold on a little longer so they could finish together. He knows Jorge's happiness was seeing his family well, his wife and children, and above all, without others noticing, watching Messi play. It was always that way since he was little. Jorge took him to every training session after work, and his mother covered many when Jorge was working. Jorge never missed a match. He suffered watching and enjoyed it, though he rarely gave much praise. "You were my dad, my friend and my agent." Jorge was always exactly who the moment needed, and he was never wrong. Beyond the occasional disagreement, he was always right. Things turned out the way he said. Messi will miss him so much, but Jorge stays present, especially in how Messi raises his children. He teaches them the way his parents raised him. "Rest in peace and watch over us from above the way you did here. Thank you for everything. I love you, Dad."