Dad not a day goes by that I don't miss you. No one told me the pain would be so grand and present; even though its been 13 and half years. It all happened, November 8, 1988, Election day. I was 14 at the time. I will never forget this day. I awoke at 6:00 am to find my dad sitting in the dining room, drinking coffee, and reading the paper. My radio speakers weren't working so you said you would see what you could do to fix it. Everyone sleep, and I enjoyed having you to myself. We ate breakfast and the rest of the family started to wake up. you all were going to go vote in the election. It was one of my brothers first year to vote. I stayed home alone, while you all left at around 11:30 am.
I'm listening to my newly fixed radio and cleaning my bedroom, when my neighbor shows up, and ask me to come over. I didn't think anything about it the (and hind sight being 20/20 I now realize it was taking an awfully long time for my parents and brother to vote.} I went to Mary's house and she sat me down and said, "Mr. Bob [that's what all my friends called my dad) is at the hospital." I didn't know why and I don't think she did either. But Mary being kindhearted and levelheaded she said, "Don't worry, Mr. Bob will be ok." I cried and went back home, to make an attempt to get my other brother who was at work. I didn't have any luck.
It's nearly 4 o'clock now, and I'm sitting on the steps in front of our home, hugging the boxer puppy my dad just bought me in September. I see my parents truck pulling up the street. I didn't think anything about it until I only saw my brother and lil sister.
I figured in my mind they kept dad in for observation, and Mom stayed with him. When Jimmy and Edna got out of the truck, I still for a split second didn't know anything was wrong. Then they both had tears in there eyes and doing their best to hold it back. I knew and I started screaming. To hear those 3 words come out of my brothers mouth devastated me. I collapsed to the ground. I don't remember much after this.
I called my "love interest" who was a bit older than I, but he was very close to the family. I started to cry on the phone, and he asked "what's wrong?" I told him that Dad died, and he told me don't say that, stop lying, I pray your lying. I cried so much, to him, the conversation lasted for what seemed like forever. But he appeared before me in no time. I asked him if we could just leave and he said no not yet. I locked myself in the bathroom....and attempted to be with my dad. I with all intense purposes wanted to die and be with him. I was stopped by a friend, who broke the door down, and saved me from the slice, I was about to do to my self. I left with David and spent the whole night crying and begging God for you back. Only to show up home about 10 hours later to have Mom complaining that I left and she was worried. I doubt this very much.
The rest of the planning of your funeral was left to me, because Mom was to out of it to do anything. I had to pick your casket. Blue for your favorite color. I don't wanna do this is all I can remember thinking. How could you be gone, and sadly my only thought was why you and not Mom? She didn't care for me the way you did, and she didn't love me like you did.
I have these feelings of loss and misery everyday!! I miss you with every breath I take. I want you back with every ounce of myself. I don't know why you're gone, and 13 years later the pain is still the same. I never ever forget about you. I'm angry. And I love you...........