Personal Narrative: Death Of A Father

I wait at the door. I put on my solemn, grim face, I cannot let these children see me as a soft women. I am anything but that, well I guess I am, but we all need to hide our inner emotions some how. My useless husband, Hans, mumbles, “I see the car”. We step outside, most people think Hans and I are crazy for opening our home to these two children, but every little bit of money that we can earn helps. Plus, they can help with the laundry, I think and smile.

Nineteen years ago, my family experienced the most earth-shattering moment anyone could imagine, the death of a child. Growing up, I have always seen boy’s picture that hangs above our mantle. Every January, we have family and friends bombard us with phone calls, trying to take my family’s minds off of the tragedy, but until recently, I never understood exactly why. At fourteen, I finally gained the nerve to ask about the boy whose picture hung above the mantle, so my teary-eyed mother sat me down and told me about the death of my big brother.

A time when I felt really sad was last christmas. It was christmas eve morning, and my mom got a call, I looked at her and I knew something was wrong, I was so scared to see what she was gonna say, did someone die, what happened? I didn't know, she was on the phone for about 15 minutes, it was driving me nuts, I didn't know who she was talking about or talking to, she just kept say “oh my gosh”, and “really”. She finally got off the phone, she sat there in shock for a few seconds, I didn't want to sound pushy or rude, but I wanted to know what was going on. She finally started talking, she looked at my dad, and started talking. I remember her words like it was yesterday. “Uncle Dave went to the hospital last night, mom said something in his

Annoyed at this, I turned once again and lay on my back. I took a deep

My father committed suicide after the 2008 financial crisis. He felt that the lump sum of money from his life insurance would mean we would not have to bear the weight of his debts. This left my mother to pay off what was left and raise four children (two of whom were in constant legal trouble). She put one of my brothers through flight school (costing tens of thousands of dollars). She then put my other brother through a masseuse school. She's also co-signed cars for my brother and sister meaning unknown future costs could be devastating. Worst of all though is my medical issues. Starting in middle school I experienced constant violent vomiting which even to this day affects me. It forced me to drop out and then complete highschool in three

The loss of a parent is a traumatic experience, especially when you are only 15 years old. I had everything in the world at that point, until I lost my best friend. The man I looked up to my entire life had now taken his own. My dad embodied what it meant to be the family man; if he was not at work, then he was devoting his time to his wife and kids. Almost every day was filled with a new adventure, whether it be a bike ride to the botanical gardens or a fishing trip to a picturesque lake in Michigan.

So about three years ago my aunt past away and my entire family attended the funeral. For those of you that know my immediate family (the Hairston clan) you know that nothing good could possibly come this happening. I'm going to tell a story that is 100% accurate with no exaggerations what so ever. This story will be long but well worth the time. It involves a black cowboy, an elderly Jamaican man, a borderline racist grandmother and three asshole brothers.

Remembering seeing his dad for the last time, Jason flashed back to when he saw his dad's plane take off for Africa. Later that day Jason was watching the news with his mom when he saw that a plane had crashed just off the coast of Africa. Terrified Jason's mom called the airline company to see if that was the flight her husband and Jason's dad was on. With a mournful look on Jason's mom's face she told Jason the horrific news.

The day that my son Bailey dropped of his two children to be raised by me and my crippled brother Willie was a Tuesday. The store had been busier than usual. The Blinker family had come by early in the morning and bought all there food for the week. Mrs. Blinker said they didn't come Monday which was their usual day because little Tessy Blinker had her fifth birthday and they had a some sort of a celebration for the child's special day. When Baileys rusty old beaten station wagon pulled up, the sun was just about set. This was time my moma used to tell me God and Adam got the closes in the garden of eden. As a child I thought always looked like a golden lemon drop falling down to god's mouth. But as a godly woman I know, know it is just

It was a normal day Brayden, Seth and I just got done with basketball practice. We were wondering if we had plans for the remainder of the day.

Right after she said that we heard the flatline tone. All of a sudden nurses came rushing in and yelling at us to hustle out. When we accumulated out in the hallway I felt a tug on my pant leg and looked down and saw my step-brother and asked him what he wanted.

My stop was the last on the bus. I sit on the bus with my head tucked into the hood of my sweatshirt, so Erik and his friends do not see me. The bus squeaks and pulls to a never-ending stop. I let everyone else off before me and finally walk off, then say “thank you,” the driver.

My father is a good dad and a good person. For this to happen to him was a hard thing for him to go through. I love my dad, and I want him to live for a while. When he got an infection in his brain that scared my mother and I. He had to go through a surgery to get the infection out of the brain that was the size of a lemon. He was in the hospital for two months the first time. The surgeon thought it was all good for him to go home. He went home for about a month then had to go back into the hospital because the infection came back. The surgeon had to take out his left temporal lobe of his skull. It was infected,

When I was a sophomore, my dad had a life changing injury. This changed how I viewed the world and life in general; I witnessed firsthand how fast life can change. It went from happy times to 30 days in an Intensive Care Unit. From being able to talk to my dad every day to seeing him in a hospital bed on life support. The steps it took for him to get where he is today, from 30 days in ICU, to another month in the trauma unit, and 2 months in rehab made me grow as a person and begin to realize the true value of life.

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.