Yosemite: A Short Story

My oldest brother was hammering on the door, shouting to open it. While I stood there, frozen in fear that this moment in time would never end. He asked why my brother and I didn’t want to be with him, what had he done wrong, how could he make things better? Next he tried to persuade me to come live with him, that he would “change,” but I knew that would never happen with him and he would go straight to being a patriarchal dick of a father that would threaten his children with a

My two sister were only 12 years old, my brother was 5 years, and I was only 3 when my dad shot himself. My mom distanced herself from, my two sisters, my brother, and myself. As the years passed, my sisters and my brother had grown a connection with my mom but I didn’t. When I turned twelve, I told myself that i needed a relationship with my mom because it had always been important to me since I lost my dad. Throughout that year I tried to have a connection with my mom. As me and my mom grown closer that year I turned thirteen and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I

For as long as I could remember my dad wasn’t in my life. Ever since I was in the fourth grade he was constantly in and out of the hospital, had multiple strokes, and towards the end of his life on and off of life support. Even though I still saw him a few times a week, and tried to keep in touch with him as much as I could, but I was already learning at a very young age how to live without him. Then one day in my junior year of high school he passed away. Losing him was probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to endure. I was out of school for two weeks, and when I got back, learning was not on my mind. Almost to the point to where I didn’t even care about school anymore. My grades dropped and I ended up failing my junior year. I had so much guilt in me asking myself “why couldn’t I have done more?”, and “Why did I not go see him more when I could?”. But I knew I had to change and get back on the right track but at the time I did not know how. I did not know to move on from my dad dying and

When thanksgiving had come around, we left to a cabin in Hocking Hills for a week. My grandparents, Tom, me, my sister, and my mom all went together and it was large enough to fit all of us. Now letś backup a little bit, at this time my dad, Adam had developed Pancreatitis. This is an inflammation and scarring of the Pancreas. Leads to severe vomiting, nausea, severe weightloss, weight gain, and death. Some patients develop multiple total organ failure. In the time my dad was in the hospital we grew closer than we ever had been, and I can now say my dad is my rock. He is my light in the darkness. I have become very defensive of him. Back to the cabin. My mom and sister were doing each others hair when I walked in for a towel. Julie made a comment about my dad, and I fired off instantly and lost my cool. Screaming ensued, along with threats and name calling. Thirty seconds later I told them I was moving into my dads. I had wanted to move in with him a long time, but it was also a choice I always pondered at first. Was I really ready to leave a part of me behind? Was I ready to turn my back on those I had once called family. In the time following the events at the cabin, I learned many things about my Mom and

My family of five shattered into pieces in 2014 and changed my life forever. My parents had separated, which led my mom to renting out a duplex nearby, until just last December when we moved into a house. With my dad “working” night shift at the post office and putting alcohol above the three of us kids, we stayed at moms a majority of the time. My mom left for work around 6am every morning so she would wake us all up about 5:45 every morning so we could get dressed for school and be dropped off at our dads to catch the bus an hour later. That hour in the morning, which was spent mostly sleeping on the couch, was the only interaction we had with our dad since he was still in a stage of depression. During this period, dad rarely ever attended any school or sport events and separated himself. The alcohol started before the divorce. I remember I received 4 concert tickets to see my favorite band, at the time. I asked my cousin, Lauren, and friend Jordyn to come along with my dad and I. That night, my father slipped away to the bar and when he came back to the seats drunk he grabbed my arm and pulled me rows ahead. Security took my dad out of the venue then came back to get my friends and I. Emblem3 had just came to the stage and I will forever blame my father for ruining my 14th birthday from getting us kicked out of the concert.

My brothers left to school and I was there in eternal slumber until the familiar voice of my mother comes and awakens me. She woke me up and said “Alright since you don’t want to go to school go with your dad to go to work and help him out”. In my young, irresponsible my mind I thought ‘How hard can it be’ and I accepted. I got ready and she prepared anything I needed to use to be with him. I started watching television enjoying the time I had to relax while my dad was waking up and getting ready for work. My dad told me that we were ready to leave and as I passed by the mirror and saw the last glance of a short, young guy in middle school that thought he didn’t have any responsibilities.

“I can beat you in a race to the house.” said my 5 year old brother Liam as he got off the bus. “Oh yeah, well let's find out.” I said. We started running, my brother was running full speed and I was jogging so he could beat me. We got to our nice house in Chicago and we went inside to get a snack and a drink. Then my Mom and Dad came home and said that we were going out to eat tonight then going to Dave and Busters. My Dad helped me on some of the games that way I could get a lot of prizes. I figured something was up so I asked him why he was being helpful to me and my brother on the games and took us out to eat and everything. (because he doesn’t like to go to eat very much during the week when we have stuff to do at home) “Well bud” he said. “You know how you said you didn’t want to move.” “Yeah” I said. “This time we have to move.” said my Dad. My jaw dropped and so did my brothers. “Where are we going.” said Liam. “We have to go to California for your Dad’s job.” my Mom replied. “But, but, my friends and my life here.” “I’m sorry.” my Dad cut in. The ride back home was silent in the truck. Nobody knew what to say to each other. Laying in bed that night I knew that my Mom and Dad already felt really bad so I didn’t want to make it worse. So the next morning I told my brother that he needed to be happy when we leave and not be so sad. He didn’t really listen to me so today he was really mad and crying when we were packing up our house. We finally got

Some of the most confusing thoughts that a young girl can have is “Why does all of my friends have two parents but I only have a mom?” “Who is my dad?” “Where is my dad?” “Will I ever met my dad?” Eventually, all of these questions will be confronted and answered; on April 5th, 2008, my dad was released from a Federal Correctional Facility. This particular day, my mom approached me and sat me down to say that I am going to meet my dad for the first time. Because I never met this man, various emotions were running through me, I was scared, excited, but carious all at once. I had so many questions I wanted to ask my father such as, “Where have you been?” “Do you recognize me?” “Do you know my name?” Being an 8 year old girl, I didn’t digest how meeting my father can affect me as a person.

It was a cool Sunday in the summer month of August. My brother was getting his senior pictures taken. My family and I were all laughing and having a great time together. Later in the day I had dance choreography and my dad and brothers went on a four wheeler ride with their friends down in the creek near our house. Usually after dance choreography, my mom comes to take videos and pictures of our dance, but our session ended and she wasn't there. That's when I began to sense something was wrong as the normal became abnormal. My friend’s mom told me she was picking me up because my dad had been in a four wheeling accident and was flown to the hospital in St. Louis. Immediately, I began to cry, but my caring dance teacher and loving friends comforted me as I left for the St. Louis hospital with my friend and her mom. The whole ride there I was in tears as I didn't know how badly my dad was hurt and if he was going to be all right. Even though my friend’s mom assured me that my dad would be fine, I could only think of the worst possibilities.

One day my parents called me into the family room to talk. When I arrived in the family room, my older sister and younger brother were already sitting there, my youngest brother being too little to understand. I already knew the topic of the conversation, even before my parents spoke. We were never called into family discussions unless it was something serious like this was going to be. My father began speaking, he told us that he and my mother could no longer live together. He explained that they have tried for a long time to make it work, but they couldn’t they were now two different people. My father said he would be moving out so my mother could keep the house, but we could come visit him at anytime. My heart began to beat

I had no idea my father lost his job until I got home from school that day. When I walked in, I saw my father sitting upon his chair, in the family room, with bloodshot eyes. I was amazed- I never saw my father cry before. I always thought that he was this extremely tall man who could care less about what other people thought of him, who could do almost anything, who loved my mother, my brothers, and I so dearly. I asked him what was the matter, but all he did was tell me to go to my room and do my homework. Then, I went and asked my mother why my father was acting the way he was, all she said was, “Your father and I will tell you and your brothers later.” It wasn’t until dinner when my mother and father told my younger brothers and I what had happened. My brothers did not seem to

The type of bond that I had shared with my father is unforgettable. Ever since I had been a baby, my first word was “papi,” and I had always been “daddy’s girl.” Going on, my dad was always very playful and kind to everyone, no matter what he could always make you laugh and smile. Every year in the summer I had gotten to go on a vacation with my dad and sisters sometimes 2 or 3 weeks. We have shared many special moments together that I will cherish with me forever. Aside from all these memories, I know that he will always be in my heart and therefore I choose to look forward and make him proud of the person that I am becoming. When I grow up I want to become the type of person that my father was, always helping people and being an amazing person. The day after my father had passed away my older sister, Marlen, who currently doesn’t live with us had told me, “You girls have to stay strong for my dad, I know that he wouldn’t want us to be any kinds of sad, just know he will always be watching over you, right by your side…” When Marlen had told me those words, I believe that’s when I was very confident in my purpose/why I want to become who I am. I had to do it in honor of my father, I want him to look down at his “little princess” and smile, being proud of who his daughter is and all of my achievements. I want him to be proud of how far I have come in life, right in that moment of when my sister had facetimed us telling us those words. In that same moment I had felt a beat in

I was sitting on my bed reading my homework assignment. As I turned the pages I could hear the crisp paper flip over after each page turned. I set the book down on the soft comforter. and looked in the mirror. I thought about how everyone said I looked just like my dad. The freckles that overlined my face. The dark brown eyes with thick black eyelashes. I thought of his image in my head. The only thing that remained different were my eyes were filled with sadness. If there was one thing I would always remember about my dad was that his eyes were always filled with happiness, excitement, or sympathy. I felt my face slightly redding. My eyes welled up with tears. I felt a big lump in my throat that I attempted to swallow. I felt the tear drip down my face. The tear fell close to my mouth and I could taste the salt from it that followed. I wiped my tears quickly, and stared at the picture of my dad. Then I told myself that if he were here he would want me to help mom, and take care of her. I thought of how I saw my mom crying for weeks after my dad passed away from getting shot from his job. My dad was a police officer and always protected us. It’s been almost a year since and my mom had never been the same. I could feel myself getting more angry.

My dad was always the type of person to misbehave with me before I went to bed, ultimately, making me not so tired anymore He would always wrestle with me and make me laugh whenever I didn’t want to and he still does. Whenever I would get in a wreck with my bike or accidentally fall down, he would tell me to suck it up, so I did. If I wanted to even start to complain about something, or cry, I would never go to my dad about it because he would tell me, “You’re fine Brenna.” He also showed me how to have fun in a good way. My dad is not the type to care as much about the opinions of others. He taught me that I am a unique individual and I don’t need to fake my personality for others approval.

At many different times and many ways my dad does many extraordinary things. The most extraordinary this man has ever done for me and so many others is welcome us into his home and his space. In the year of 2014 I was a damaged little girl who didn't know what I felt like to be loved for real or what real joy was until I moved in with my parents. Through my life I have stayed from house to house with people I barely knew or just met. But than their was that one day I was taken to a house where I was automatically wanted, loved, and treated as if I was part of the family. I was welcome. The years living with my dad we have had our ups and downs, who hasn’t, we have had downfalls but we always make it through them and I know i'm lucky for that.