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    The Day My Father Died

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    On that bizarre morning, I woke up. I got out of bed and made it. After I made the bed, I went down the hall to where my mother’s bedroom was; I told her it was time for me get ready for school, so I got in the shower. After I showered, there was a knock at the door. My mother and I ran to the door, we both asked who it was. It was my cousin Bobby, he said, “I have some bad news” We opened the door. He told me that my father had been shot the night before, and that he was not OK, he was dead. At the age of five, I did not realize that losing someone so important would affect me in so many ways.

    Why didn’t I feel that losing my father was important? Maybe it was because I had only seen him once in my life when I was three year old. We had just moved up from South Carolina to New York, I met him at the Riverhead train station. When I walked up to him, he gave me a big hug and bought me ice cream. He told me, “I love you, son. ” Years later my mother told me the real reasons why my father wasn’t around. It was because of his lifestyle; he was in a gang, and he didn’t acknowledge that I was his son because I walked differently from my other brothers.

    At the age five, I didn’t understand why my father wouldn’t accept me the way I was. Things changed for me after that. People in general thought that I would be missing something important in my life because I didn’t have a father. There was no one to teach me how to be real man. I did not have the chance to hang out with my father, or have the father-son bond that most boys have. As I got older, it did bother me, I think I accepted it because my mother played both roles. I could talk to my grandmother about my father as she was his mother.

    She told that me that he took care of his appearance, and dressed nicely every day. She also told me that he was a nice person who was quiet and thought about thing before he would act on them. I realized that I have most of those good qualities. I wish he could have been there for the biggest moment in my life, he would have been proud to see me graduate. The biggest moment of my life was graduating from high school. My mother and my two sisters there to see me. My mother was glowing as she watched her son get his high school diploma.

    In the back of my mind as I was walking across the stage, I felt like something. that something was my father. But then, a voice came down from heaven reminding me that he was watching over me. Some say that I’ll never see him again on this earth, but I don’t believe that. He was with me that day, if only in spirit, and he’s with me every time I think that the completely gone. He is an angel who is watching every move I make. If he was alive today he would be so proud of me. I do understand why my father didn’t accept me the way I was.

    The reason my father felt this way is that he could not look past my disability because he had same type of incapacity. I understand now why my mother kept me away from father. She took me to South Carolina because of my father’s gang lifestyle and the fact that he wouldn’t accept me the way I am. Overall, I still miss my father, the days when his loss seems to bother me the most are during special holidays and my birthday. As I have gotten older, I now appreciate the importance of life. I realize that you cannot take life for granted. We must live life to the fullest.

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    The Day My Father Died. (2018, Aug 01). Retrieved from https://artscolumbia.org/a-big-loss-54722/

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