My Life Of My Dad

The stench of death hit my nostrils as I opened the door to go inside, which is why I always hated going to the hospital. We waited the fifteen minute queue, until I heard my name from a nurse. I followed the nurse into a small, beige room. I sat down on the examining table, as my doctor walked in. I told him my symptoms, and he did a quick check up. His cold fingers pressed against my lower back. “Breathe in and out.” He said. I did as told. “Slower.” he exclaimed. At that moment, while I was slowly breathing in and out, I could hear a small click every time I inhaled. The doctor looked up and said, “Ahhh, you seem to have pneumonia.” He explained to my mom and I what that meant because we were clueless. After he finished, he told us that if I waited any longer to go to the hospital, he wouldn’t be speaking to me, which opened my mom’s eyes finally. He told me that I couldn’t go to school for at least another two weeks, gave me a school note and my prescription. We left the hospital. My mom dropped me off, and went to pick up the medication. As I lay in bed, I remember thinking about everything that has happened to me in the past two days, and what the doctor told me. Those thoughts were interrupted by the opening of my bedroom door as my mom walked in. She handed me the medication. I swallowed the pills, and fell asleep. The next morning my mom walks in with a stack of papers. She said, “It’s alright if you’re not able to attend class,

As I was picked up the bad thoughts started to run through my head again, this time it seem like it was worse. The closer we got to the hospital the more I became weak. I didn 't know what to expect to be honest. I tried to prepare myself for the worse. As we entered the hospital and went to the emergency room, I walked into a lobby full of family, as I walked in my brother got me up to date with what’s going on. So I sat there patiently with my family, we all waited with anticipation for the doctor to deliver the news. As hours passed we finally got to talk to a nurse. She told us that the doctor would be coming out soon to get us updated with what’s wrong with my dad. When he finally came out he told us that everything was going to be okay, but if my dad would have came two minutes later he would have died. Man oh man that hit us all hard. But he also told us

I went to my living room to ask my mom a question, to see she wasn’t there. I asked my brother “where’s mom?” and he replied with “shes at the hospital, grandpa got burnt.” I would never have expected “grandpa got burnt” to be as severe as it was. I remember my mom coming home around two in the morning. I got up and out of bed to ask some questions. She said “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Pack some stuff up, we’re going to Waterloo tomorrow.” So I listened and packed up a bag.

My brother kept on crying as I pulled him closer into my arms, listening to the sirens blasting the in distance. As the ambulance pulled up, I couldn’t move. My body was frozen holding my brother watching the paramedics pull my mom from the car. I tried to call out for her, but nothing came out. They worked quickly strapping her to a gurney and whisking her off into the distance. Through the fog, I watched the ambulance until I could no longer see the lights. It was then realized that my mother was gone, and we were all alone. As a policeman approached us he got down on one knee to be face to face with me.

One night as I searched for my mother, my dad told me she was not feeling like herself. My dad told me to let her rest that night and I could talk to her the following morning. As I started to wake up the next morning my father was sitting at the foot of my bed and informed me I’d be spending the day with my Aunt Michelle because my mother had a doctor’s appointment. I could not wrap my head around why I would not be attending this appointment but had attended all the others. Later that evening once again both my parents came into my room but this time without smiles. With a shaky voice my mom began to tell me she had been diagnosed with Preeclampsia and her illness was progressing quickly. Now with tears running down her face she continued

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

We drove for what seemed hours to my six year old self. When we arrived in the parking lot of the hospital, which I can never remember the name of, he told us why we were there. Lauren threw a fit, screaming and crying like someone was hurting her. She shouted “I never wanted him”. I believe that is still to this day the biggest lie she has ever told. We walked up to the big glass hospital doors, and straight through them to the elevator. I waited and waited for what seemed forever until the big silver doors opened, and my dad showed us which way to go. We walked past room after room listening to the crying and sometimes laughter. Finally, we got to the right room and we walked in. There sat my mother on a hospital bed. She didn’t seem hurt or in pain, but they said it was happening fast. At one point my mother’s father (Poppy) took us down to the cafe, and all I remember is that hospitals have very good spaghetti. My Poppy got a phone call and all of the sudden we were on the move, going through the halls like there was a fire we were trying to escape from. When we got back to my mother’s hospital room, everyone looked so upset; their faces, eyes and cheeks were red and

In that short time, the pain I felt was unbearable. That type of pain was sudden and couldn't be escaped. I wasn’t sure what to do about it. The feeling of guilt had taken over me. It faded in and out, not leaving me. When we arrived at the hospital, my mom was quickly taken into the emergency room. I noticed how much the hospitals were different from the ones in Virginia. My aunt and I were told to sit in the waiting room. I could tell that she was trying very hard to keep herself together in front of me. We waited and waited. After about 2 and a half hours the doctors came out.

Joni Mitchell wrote a song,within it these words can be found, "You don't know what you've got till it's gone." I absolutely agree with this statement. It's easy to take for granted what you have, such as a loved one. Believe it or not I thought my grandmother would be around for years upon years.

Trying to be strong-minded, I asked to go back to school three days after my dad 's death. I remember getting on the bus and everyone 's eyes were on my siblings and I. Life had gone on the same around us, but yet everything in my family 's life had changed drastically. I remember when I first sat down and the girl in front of me named Zoey turned around to speak to me. She was several years younger than I and lacked a filter as so many innocent children do. She looked at me and asked, "How did your dad die?" I remember immediately feeling overheated and while I had been trying hard to act like nothing had changed, I felt that a bus had slammed into me again. I felt sadness the most in my dad 's death; but I also felt a strong sense of

I remember the words, “grandma had another stroke and is in the hospital”, and “if she makes it, she will be paralyzed on the left side of her body”. That night he took my sister and I to the hospital to see my grandma. As we walked into her room my sister had left the room crying; seeing my grandmother this way was nothing what I expected. I am someone that hides my emotions easily. I rarely show any emotion towards anything; rather I keep it all in. In this case I was so optimistic that she would recover and would come home for Christmas. I remember getting off the elevator, taking a left and continuing down the hallway. The walls were made of red and brown brick, which made the hospital seem older than it was. As we passed the nurses desk in the center of the room, her room was to the left. There was another woman beside her; separated by a curtain. As I continued to walk to the back there she was; sitting in her faded pale yellow gown on the hospital bed was my grandma. She was

We all stood up from our chairs and we took an elevator to the second floor. The bottom floor seemed like a office, but the second floor felt like a real hospital. It smelled sanitized just like a regular hospital. I could tell it was old, there was a stripe of a washed out green that went along the walls. The lady showed us to another small waiting area. The room was small and had four couches and a small table in the middle with magazines on it. My Mother and I went to sit down and my Father began to do the same thing but the lady then said “No come with me, we need to prepare you”. At this moment I felt my fear began to settle in. I rested my head on my Mom’s shoulder. My Mother woke me up, “Wake up, we’re going to see your Father”, As I got up from the couch I asked her “ Is he done?”, “No he goes in like in ten minutes and they’re letting us see him right before”. The lady who showed us to the waiting room was there and showed us to the room where he was. The room was long but not ride and there were many other patients there and I figured out they were all there for surgery too. We walked toward him and he was there in a patient gown. We stood next to him my mother began to speak to him, I looked around the room at the other patients, When my Mother finished talking to him, I told him “It’s going to be OK.”, “I know” he replied. We

As I turned into my driveway, I saw I big red vehicle that had the words “Medic One.” I didn’t know what that meant, or who that car was for. The only thing I knew was that it was bad. Was it for my grandpa, grandma, or someone else in the family. I rushed into the house so fast, I almost tripped on the stairs to the front door of my house. My heart sank when I saw who was on the stretcher, it was my grandpa. I shiver went down my spine. What happened to him and if he was going to be okay. All I knew was that he was going to the hospital. I spotted my aunt, and grandma talking to the paramedics. But, my brother came and got me, so I wouldn’t see a thing. It was too late for that. No one told me anything, I was kept in the dark and it was frustrating. The one person I cared about was hurt and I couldn’t do anything about it. I knew what was going on for the most part, but no one would tell me the truth or give me answers. They kept me in the dark. I looked at my window, and caught a glimpse of the paramedics loading my grandpa into the ambulance and drove off with my grandma and my aunt.

When I was younger I never thought my parents would separate. I always thought they both would be there for my brothers and I no matter what. Growing up you are taught that moms and dads were supposed to stay together, through the thick and thin. I didn’t think in a million years that I would grow up seeing only one parent at a time. Not one of my friends’ parents were separated and I was embarrassed to tell them mine were. I never wanted to invite anyone over to have them realize that my parents were no longer together. I spent most of my time hiding my parents divorce rather than enjoying the fun times with my friends. I never thought anything would ever come between our family, but I was completely wrong.

I have a very special person in my life that I look at as my hero. Like a Knight in shining armor with the warm bright light that seems to follow him where ever he goes. Wearing his strong armor, so shinny and clear you can see your own refection. Stronger than ten men fighting to keep me safe, to protect me. Who is this man? He is my father. He not only can carry his own problems, but also chooses to carry mine. It’s like he is holding a balance beam scale that seems like it could tip one way, but he always keeps it evenly balanced. It’s so hard to pick one time that my dad influenced me because there are many. From day one until now, my dad influenced me to be the best I can be.