In my heart you'll always stay
by Noemi
I'm the youngest of 4 girls and I lost my father at age 9. I remember the day he died, it's like a bad dream that replays over and over in my head. My dad had been on life support for 10 days. Everyday after school I'd go and visit him at the hospital. My mom or sisters would pick me up from my baby sitters place and from there we'd go straight to him. But this day was different... My mom was late on picking me up, it was 5:00 pm and I'd been there since 2. I didn't think much of it and since my baby sitter was my neighbor I'd just look out her window towards my house to see if a car pulled up. Finally her door bell rang and I knew it was my sister I answered the door myself excited to see her. But when I saw her, her eyes were really red and watery as If she was crying. Again I didn't think much of it much less to ask, I thought she was crying over a boyfriend or something. We crossed the street and I hopped on the back seat of the car where my other oldest sister was waiting. She told me to get off because she needed to talk to me so I got off wondering what was wrong.. She'd been crying too. Everything was too confusing. She began with "you know your dad has been in the hospital for a few days now.. But now he's... Gone to a better place..." before she could say anything else I said "you mean.. He died?!!!" more tears streamed down her face, she didn't say a word I mean she didn't have to, I knew the answer. I began screaming hysterically. My heart stopped, everything seemed such a blurr. So many thoughts ran through my head. I mean this couldn't be true! It couldn't happen to ME. It all felt like a nightmare. My sister held me close to her but not even the warmth of her hug could calm me down or make me feel a little better. Nothing could. Someone else drove us to the hospital. For the first time the doctors let me into his hospital room. I remember looking at him, his purple dead face. Holding on to his cold body. Knowing that I was too late in saying my last goodbyes. I remember being pissed at the doctors for not letting me into his room when he was still breathing, even with those machines helping him. I was mad at the world and I wanted him back! What was I going to do after this? During his funeral I didn't shed one tear. Til this day I still don't know why I didn't cry. Maybe because somehow I felt as if he'd come back and that this wasn't really happening... I was wrong. It's been almost 7 years now. His death was on April 12, 2004. Time of death 3:51 pm. I'm 16 now and still grieving. It's Christmas and I wish I had him back.. at least for today. I miss you daddy. In my heart you'll always stay.
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