Personal Narrative: Losing A Father Changed My Life

Losing a parent is never an easy reality, whether you are three or 30, whether you had an inseparable relationship or an estrange connection. Furthermore, it is never something that you expect to experience. In the back of our minds, we are aware that death looms over every being; however, it’s a bitter reality that does us no good to dwell on, so we ignore it, living life in the moment.

My bitter reality came in the April of my junior year. My father, after feeling poorly for nearly a week, visited his primary physician to determine what was ailing him. Within a week of his doctor consultation, he was diagnosed with acute liver disease and cancer, declined for a liver transplant, and entered into in-home hospice.

In ten days, my life, comfortably mundane, had spiraled into a frenzy of grief, despair, and uncertainty. I had gone from obsessing over SATs and learner’s permits to only being concerned with our present predicament. Although I wish that this never happened, I wish that I still had a father, I am grateful for the experience because it allowed me to assess and stretch my character, and it taught me

Maybe being surrounded by my older siblings all the time has affected me or the books that I read have taught me lessons, deeper than the surface. Nevertheless, throughout the experience, I proved to be as mature, if not more, than some of the adults involved. I took the initiative to do whatever I could to assist my family, and I took responsibility and asked for help when needed. I was honest with myself and my family about the fact that I did not want to tarnish my memories of my father, as a strong and capable man, by seeing him in his weakest moments. Thus, rather than staying at his bedside to see every decline in his mind, I took responsibility of the house, making lunch and dinner every day, feeding and walking the dog, watching my niece and nephew, and doing whatever I could for