My New Life

As soon as my eyes woke up to the bitter cold of the night and stars covered by black blanket of clouds, I knew that this was it. I had tried to prepare myself that day, but I was at school when it happened. The moment the intercom came over the classroom, “Hailey Wooldridge needs to come the office, her mom is here to check her out,” my heart stopped. I was able to make it to the office without losing my composure, but as soon as my eyes met my mom standing there with tears in hers I lost it. Right there standing in the school office, the food gates of heaven opened up in my eyes and I could not stop the rivers from flowing. My best friend since kindergarten had died. All the planning of moving in together when we went to college was down the drain. The late nights of watching horribly filmed scary movies was done. My heart was broken, and the pieces are still not taped together properly. Two days later was her funeral. Her mother had asked me to say a couple of words about her during the service, but the thought of standing next to her lifeless body talking about her and not to her made everything seem surreal. By the power of prayer and numerous amounts of tears, I stood up from my seat and walked lifelessly to the podium that viewed hundreds of people waiting to see what I had to say. I do not know how I got through that speech without hysterically crying, but somehow, I talked like I was having a conversation with Serra once again. In front of me, I

There is one loss in my life that affected many aspects of my life for many years, the divorce of my parents. I was in barley entering the first grade and the tender age of five, soon to turn six, when my parents spent their last night as a married couple. I do not have many memories of my parents as a couple but I do remember the day my Daddy left. He was a policeman and I watched as his cruiser drove away from our family home. I remember my mom crying and not being willing to console me or explain to me what was happening. All I knew is there was a fight, my dad left, it seemed different than other times when he left, and my mom was crying. Everything about my life changed in the blink of a five year old’s eyes which is what makes this loss so significant in my life.

I remember waking up that day and that feeling in my stomach, knowing what was about to happen. Growing up I knew about my father's sickness. My family, I recall, was always supportive. No one ever thinks about how one day, everyone you’re around for years, can just vanish. I cherished my friends as I was growing up. I lived there for a majority of my life, up until fourth grade. I remember sitting at a neighbor's house and having the mother come into the room and inform me that I need to be home swiftly. As I ran home, my head was crowded with thoughts to the point where I could not even think about why I was supposed to be home quickly. That day marked the transition of what would be the biggest change in my life. As by dad became sicker,

Fast forward to 8th grade English class, and my teacher told us we had to write a memoir about a moment in our life that scared us. Since I had many of those moments all throughout my life, I didn 't know which one to pick. I didn 't decide what I was doing until the day before it was due when I sat down at my grandmas computer to type and print my assignment. I contemplated writing about all of my near death experiences, but settled on something else.I decided to write about the one thing that changed my life forever and that still haunted me to the very day and every moment. The topic, as you can guess, was my father.

People that may not now me may see a smiling girl in her swimsuit, ready to go to the beach. Other people who knows me, sees the fake smile I put in my face. I was finally reunited with my mother and my brother. The only reason I could be with my family was the demise of my father. Grieving the death of my father made impossible for me to be a hundred percent happy. I had no idea my life would become as wonderful or as terrible as it has been; that I would heal the broken pieces of my heart and live a happy life next to my mother and my

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.

The most traumatic event in my life was when my father passed away in 2005, when I was only seven. At first, I hadn’t understood his death. I knew what death was, and that it was permanent, but I hadn’t accepted the fact that he was gone until long after his death. My mother was a mess, and I was a confused second grader who could do nothing to help her. We began to go to counselors and psychologists, who all made me feel very uncomfortable. All they wanted was to talk about what had happened to my dad, when it was the last thing I wanted to say anything about. I laid in bed crying for a few weeks, knowing it was because of his death, but I felt emptiness rather than sadness or anger. My mother began to take medication for depression, and still continues to do so. At only seven, I believed her sadness was my fault. To be honest, I still feel hurt when I see her taking the depression medication. I know that I had nothing to do with his death, but it granted me with an unwelcoming sense of guilt. I had just been with him the night before his death, and now he had been cremated into a bag of ashes. All of my teachers were very precautious about mentioning him, and I didn’t know how to process all the new attention I had received at school. I was definitely depressed, but I found a way out of my slump. I distracted myself from his death and did all of my school work from my absences as quickly as I could, and

When I turned 11-years-old my whole childhood began to change my life went from being perfect to everything but perfect. One day I came home to hear the news my father, my best friend; my hero was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. Not knowing the struggle my family was about to take on I just began to cry. I had a million things running through my head what’s going to happen? Will everything be okay? Why him? What is going to happen? With all these things rushing through my head all I could do was cry not knowing this was least worse to come.

September 2nd 1958 it’s my first day of fifth grade and I had just moved to a new house, new town, and new school. I woke up excited to go to my new school,new friends, and a new start. I got up and got ready to start my my first day. I put on my favorite shirt and skirt with my new long white socks. I put my hair into two braids and tied two bright red ribbons in, to match my skirt. I ran down the stairs grabbed my backpack and bursted through the door. I didn’t even stop to eat anything or even grab my bag lunch. As I got on the bus I didn’t know anyone so i sat by myself in the fourth seat and sat quietly as i looked out the window.

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.

My family saw me as a source of entertainment, but more important when my mother glanced at my small, but full heart it caused her briefly to forget all the pain. My family accepted their new roles and I made it my responsibility to care for my mother. Every special occasion, I made it my duty to shower her with love and gifts so that she never felt alone. When I had to get heart surgery at the age of 12 years old, I was aware of her medical anxiety, so as I was wheeled into the operating room, a reassuring smile lit up on my face and I instructed my aunt stay by her side. As time passed and my family healed, darkness spread over all that love and laughter that once encompassed my body. For a decade following the most impactful day of my life, I put pressure on myself to be perfect and give my family a reason to smile. All that weight on my shoulders finally weighed me down during one of my toughest, 2013. In the beginning of my 8th grade year my personality began to change and life kept to throw curveballs at me. In September, flames ran up the side of my house and I briefly faced my death; however I escaped untouched and my childhood home remained mostly intact. In December, a baking activity ended in a cut tendon, surgery and the start of a long battle with mental

The Door slowly opens and no one was there. I walk in the house and look everywhere and I find nothing. As soon as i’m done checking downstairs I go upstairs, then I find Aunt Sarah reading a book about families reuniting.

The day August 10 2013 was a day both full of joy and sorrow. A day my family would never forget. The day I had lost my grandfather, the matriarch of the family. A man who was loving, kind , humble and all the things a child and grandchild could ever ask for. That day was supposed to be fun and full of joy. A day I had spent not even knowing that the time with my grandfather was up, he was needed somewhere else. I knew he was leaving, just not then, not at a time when I needed him and his wise words. I was with him the whole day, but ignoring the warning of time, and poof, my life changed.

I was nine years old when my father passed away. The death of my father no doubtfully circled a list of negative affects around my family and me, yet a modicum of positive aspects shimmered in eventually, making the dark room just a little brighter. Following the incident, my mother decided to move out of Montreal; our home at the time, and move halfway across the country, to Victoria, BC.

On May, 22 2009 an unthinkable event that changed me occurred . My sister got into a car crash, and was in critical condition at the hospital. I came home early that day after my dad checked me out crying, we went home and he told me. The words hurt like the coldest frostbite and red hot needles all over my body. I was only five then and when my sister passed away that night I couldn't handle it. She was only seventeen and she was my rock when my parents got divorced, I could go to her for anything. Today I still live with he same pain I