I’m going to write about the day I lost someone most important in my life. John Doe, my dad was a very hardworking person, he never missed a day of work and was always willing to do anything for anyone. He was so energetic always so happy and was rarely mad. I feel blessed that I was raised by a wonderful person like him and hope to follow my dad’s footsteps one day. I would always refer myself as daddy’s girl and for quite a while I don’t know what got into me, but I never seemed to get along with my mom. It was always my dad I wanted to be with. The right words never came across my mind when being around my mom.
This all suddenly changed the day my dad got home early from work with a harsh pain in his lower spine. It was so bad he found it hard to sit up straight; he had to be lying down to lessen the pain. One night the pain got really bad that my mom had to rush my dad to the hospital. It was 4 in the morning! My mom rushed me and my 3 younger siblings to get ready, I didn’t know if to be scared or nervous at the fact of taking my dad to the hospital or mad because she woke us up that early. We spent countless hours at the hospital and throughout that time all kinds of thoughts came through my head. “Will my dad be okay?” My grandma came to pick us up early and took us to her house. My parents came home the next day and called everyone into the room. My dad has cancer. He had a tumor on his spine and it was cancerous, that was what was causing ...
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It took me a while to go outside or anywhere with anyone since they wanted me to have fun, but in my eyes I felt like I was betraying my father by having a good time instead of being sad. Me and my dad’s birthdays are both in June his is seven days before mine, and This May 29, 2014 will count 8 months without him. Even today I don’t like to hear anyone speak of my dad, the memory still makes me cry as if it happened yesterday. When I hear other people being rude to their dad or saying a rude comment it makes me just want to tell the person that I would do anything to have one more day with my dad. I am on a new journey in life without my dad and I will hold on to every memory good or bad as tight as I can.
Living our busy lives no one else in the family could travel to Houston. Grandma was a strong woman. She could overcome anything and cancer was not going to defeat her. When she arrived at the hospital the doctors took a cat scan and figured out that she had stage four melanoma skin cancer. While my mother and grandma were at M.D. Anderson I was at home living a normal life just starting my first high school basketball season. Every night I worried about how she was doing not thinking about my school work or my athletics. A couple weeks later I called grandma and asked her how she was doing and she assured me that everything was going to be okay and that I should not worry about her. That’s how she lived. She never put herself first in any situation and family and friends were her main focus. Grandma would do anything to make her grandkids happy. I told my grandma I loved her and hung up the phone. The next day at school I looked up the percentage of people killed by melanoma skin cancer and the results were not good. One person dies of melanoma every 54 minutes. When I got home that evening I told my dad that I needed to be in Houston with my grandma. He said he didn’t think that he could make it happen with his busy schedule. I called my mom upset realizing that
In December 2002, my dad’s boss called telling him, he was to be deployed in January 2003. Being 5 years of age I didn't quite understand what he would endure, all I knew is my daddy was leaving us for 7 months. The morning of my dad's departure came quickly. I'll never forget the goodbye that changed my outlook on family and love. At 5 am my father walked into my room. Scared and nervous, he was crying… I had never
I cried in my room for hours wishing my dad would not go, a whole month without him seemed like the end of the world. I would have no one to play hockey with, no one to tuck me in at night and no one to eat donuts with every Friday. My dad tried to console me but I was too angry to listen to him, I suddenly hated my grandpa for causing my dad to leave me alone. At the airport my dad gave me a long hug and told me to be brave since I was now “the man of the house,” (even though I am a girl), I had to take care of my mom. Promptly this made me suck in my tears and stop acting like a “loser.” It was hard repressing my feelings, seeing my dad leave made my eyes tear severely but I held them back, the man of the house does not cry. Time went by faster when I was at school, I had less time to miss my dad. About two weeks later, my mom got a call from India, my grandpa had died. My mom broke down crying, she slammed the phone across the room into the wall. I felt scared to appr...
Growing up, my father’s absence played a major factor in my stride for success. His absence was the scapegoat for why I always felt like I may not be good enough – or why I’d be looked at as an outcast. I’ve always made it my first priority to overcome his negligence by attempting to do my best in school – earning good grades, joining school clubs, giving back to the community. However, never did I receive the recognition I’ve always dreamed of and never was I satisfied with my outcome, but never did I think that I would find through the one who seized it all.
March of 2014 my Grandma passed away due to an aneurysm rupture. At that time I didn't know what to do, or think. In the past we had made a plan of what to do if something were to happen. The next week all the paperwork started, and I was going to be living with my sister in Altoona. Not long after my Grandma passed I got a call saying my Mom had passed
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
The doctors had found out my Dad had intentionally overdosed on some kind of pill. Once, they figured that out they got to work on getting the drug out of his system but it was to late and he was already in a coma. Then it came time for my Mom to make a tough decision , whether or not should she pull him off the life support machine because he was showing no signs of waking up. My Mom had one last option and that was me. She brought me to the hospital and had me interact with my Dad by me rubbing his feet with lotion and when I did not succeed in waking him up , it was time to pull him off life support.
Today, we have gathered here for my father’s life’s celebration and I thank you all for joining us. I am standing here on behalf of my family who is in shock like me because of this tragedy. My father, Martin, was kind, loving and one of the most reliable person we might come in contact with. I still remember the day I was crying because I had a bad day at school. Firstly, I was late to school then I found out I nearly failed my test.
" Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal" - Richard Puz. It is strange how many things we take for granted. We make plans for the day and don't think twice about how everything can be gone in a blink of an eye. I never thought about it much myself, until I was faced with the shock of my father's death. The days that lead up to my father died, was the most stressful, heartbreaking days ever.
I remember it as it were yesterday, the morning of October 31 1986, I heard my dad’s voice early in the morning; “Mike, get up! Your grandpa died!”
It has been twelve years since my father passed away. To this day I live with guilt from my mother that I did not become a fisherman like she had wanted. I went to university and became a professor at Midwestern University in Illinois. I like to think that at least I made my father happy. He had wanted me to go to school and get an education because he had never had an opportunity to. From a young age he had been a fisherman just like his father and my grandpa’s father. It was the norm to be a fisherman from where I’m from in Port Hawkesbury which is on the Cape Breton Island.
He was a kind and loving man, but people never treated him right I never realized it till this year. ( 2016) This caused me to write a letter to my father apologizing to him for taking him for granted, and apologizing on behalf of the others who didn't realize they took him for granted. I loved my father I had a better relationship with him then I did with my mother. I'm a religious person and on the day my dad died I had a dream that he was an angel and he had wings and he was walking in a cloud with a smile on his face. I realized that was his way of telling me goodbye, but i didn’t realize he was saying goodbye. My dad always used to get mad if I would say goodbye, so he would tell me to say “see you later”. I never realized how much a goodbye could hurt a
What made the death of my mother a stressor for me was that besides the fact that I lost my mother, her passing was so sudden; she was alive when I went to bed that night and then she was not when I woke up the next morning. She had been unwell for a really long time, but none of us had ever thought that it was bad enough to take her life. Her death affected every aspect of my life and my family’s life; it forever changed my relationship with my father and it will continue to affect how my family operates for the rest of our lives. If she had not died, then my father would not have remarried and I would not have gotten a stepmother; that is just another aspect that was permanently altered by one event. On top of that, she passed away at home
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...