Thursday December 13th. Thank god its not Friday, because if it were something bad might happen. This is the day I stopped believing in superstition. It is also a day that I will never forget. I am in the sixth grade, full of glee and bliss with an innocent mind. I remember running around during recess that day when it began to snow.
Sweat drenched my cold face,
I wonder if school is cancelled,
I sure hope it is.
I get back to class eager for an announcement from the principle. Rumors start flourishing throughout my entire grade that schools out. Finally, Principal Krausz gets on the loudspeaker freeing all of his prisoners for the day. I immediately ask my best friend, Gil, if he wants to come over. I call up my Dad to see, but no answer. I call my mom. No answer either. Oh well, what’s the harm, Gil has been over countless times. As the two of us are about to leave, my aunt comes to pick me up and sends Gil home. I get into my aunt’s car.
Why’s Aunt Debbie here?
The snow melts on the windshield,
I thought that was cool.
I get to my Aunt’s house, drop my bags and run outside to build an igloo with my cousin. I recall thinking to myself that there is nothing bad about snow. We get out of school early, and we also have something to play in. What a combo! After my cousin and I amass a mountain of snow, we begin what I like to call, “the dig.” In its essence, it is just a small hole in a glorified mounting of frozen rain. We finish the igloo and go inside to reward ourselves with a cup of hot chocolate. I walk into the kitchen and see my younger sister crying over the sink. I hope she is ok, but right now I am more focused on my cup of hot cocoa. My aunt calls me into the den where I see my mom.
Your father is dead.
I am so sorry Daniel,
He loved you very much.
The first thing that pooped into my mind was the last words I spoke to my father. I said, “Dad I think I lost my phone.” Why couldn’t I tell him that I loved him? This ate me up inside for years. They say that time heals everything, but it doesn’t. I miss my father everyday. Time does do one thing though. It taught me never to take anything for granted, especially family. At eleven years old I had to become the man of the house. A tough role for a 5-foot 4-inch prepubescent tween. I believe to this day, that the reason I try so hard in school, is because my father died. I was a struggling C student, but after his death I became an honor role student. Some people crack under all that pressure. I would not allow myself.
I am fatherless,
But I am stronger than ever,
Don’t ever give up.