I still can't belive that I am writing this. I feel like I still will wake up from the nightmare that started just three weeks ago on May 4, 2002. That was the longest day of my life; the day I lost my Dad.
I am only 20 years old, a college student, the oldest and I am engaged to be married in October this year. I would never have thought that I would not have my Dad by my side to walk me down the aisle. We were so much alike.
Last March, my Dad was laid off. After a couple of months of searching for a job, he decided to buy a small country store. My Dad could Bar-B-Que and had always wanted to open a restaurant someday. This was his chance. So I started to work for him at the store. Because I was taking classes, I was able to spend alot of time with him. Every afternoon, he would come by the store to check on me and get an ice cream cone. Whenever he tried to leave, I would say, "You aren't leaving me yet are you?" This is how I feel. Starting on Good Friday, we had been having Fish Frys on Friday evenings. Dad would fry the fish on the back porch and I would serve customers. This past weekend, our friends had a benefit fish fry in honor of my Dad. I kept walking outside on the back porch and expecting to see my Dad with all the other guys outside frying fish. But he wasn't there. The night before he died, we didn't get to have a fish fry because of bad weather. I will never forget that night. Fortunately, it didn't rain, but everything had already been canceled. We sat outside under the stars, talking around a bonfire. And then the next day, he spent the whole day working a fish fry with his friends for someone else. I will never forget the doctor's voice that said they never revived him. I will never forget the sight of his mauled truck. I will never forget the outpour of love from our community. Most of all, I will never forget my Dad.