Putting Things into Perspective
Jessica Jones
Composition I
Professor Wittmaier
05 September 2017
Putting Things into Perspective
Growing up I never realized how much family means. I knew I loved my family and that I would miss them if I ever lost them. Being a kid, I thought the longest I would have to go without either parent would be a couple of hours, not the rest of my life. I would not have taken so much time for granted if I had known how fast life can change. It was not until the day I lost my father that I realized how precious time is.
I remember waking up early the morning of June 5, 2015 and thinking that it was going to be a normal, boring day. That was not the case at all. My mom and I called my dads’ phone that morning to let him know I was on my way home, but instead of him answering the phone my brother’s girlfriend answered the phone instead. This was not alarming at first, but when we asked to talk to my dad I knew something was wrong. As she was walking to go to my dad her voice suddenly changed in an instant from tired but happy sounding; to scared and pain filled. I can still hear the way she was screaming my dad’s name when she found him lying motionless in the hallway. I did not know what to think when she told us what she had just saw. I just kept yelling for my brother’s girlfriend to call the ambulance and to try to wake him up. I was trying my best to stay calm in this moment, but I jumped up and ran outside as fast as I could. When my mom finally got to the car we sped off not knowing what would come next.
The drive back to my house was the most nerve-wracking drive of my life. My mom was going extremely fast, as I was sitting in the passenger seat hoping for anything other than the news I knew was coming. I stayed positive, or as positive as I could be in that moment. I just kept telling myself that it would be okay and that I had dealt with him having heart problems before. I told myself that nothing could happen, and that I would see him and he would be just fine. The car was silent, so silent it was almost deafening. When we pulled into the driveway at my fathers house the brakes on the car were so hot that they were not working. That was scary in its self because we almost crashed into a police car. I swear that my mom was already out of the car before it had even stopped, but I just stayed in there for a minute. I did not want to move, because I did not want to hear what in my gut I knew I was about to hear. Then, what happened next was my worst nightmare.
Passing neighbors, police officers, and ambulance drivers, I walked up to the door to see my brother standing there with tears filling his eyes. In the moment I knew, no one had to tell me. The look on his face said it all; my father had passed away. At this point I lost it, I could not be positive or strong anymore. Life as I knew it was over. Time felt to be in slow motion. I remember feeling angry. I turned around and walked out of the house and I started punching the side of the house. I did not understand why this had to happen. In my mind, there was nothing that could come close to being able to make me understand why he had to die. I was not done making memories with him, and there was no way that this was how it ended. All I wanted to do was run away and never come back. I remember going over and hugging my brother like we had never hugged before. After this, I went back into the house, and I wanted to see him. At first the police officers would not let me go back, but I pushed past them. I just wanted to see if there was pain on his face and say goodbye. That was shocking. I hated seeing him like that, but some of the hardest parts of this day had not even happened yet.