lakes & memories.

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It started exactly three months and five days after he left me. My father had died of the worst thing, the disease in which there isn't a cure, & the disease that will eat at you until it's satisfied which in the long run, is never.

I wanted nothing to do with anyone after he passed away as he was the only person who understood me as well as the only human being who wanted to actually take the time to understand. The lake was where i was at, in the barn at the time, playing a silly computer game with my pals from long island, when i saw my mom's car drive up. when i left my father in the hospital, my mother stayed with him , letting my sister and i go to the family vacation spot where we had always gone. However, when i saw my mom's car out of the corner of my eye, I felt my heart sink as i just stood there. She got out of the car and came inside with a determined look on her face, eyes swollen & the stuffed animal in her hand that my father had given me when i was three. That was when I found out my father had died on August nineteenth, 2006.
It occurred to me that the last time I would ever see my father was in the hospital the day i left. I was scared for him as we both knew he wouldn't live for much longer. I hated knowing that he was trapped , laying on that hospital bed alone, not finding it in himself to speak, not finding it in himself to cry. Instead, he lay there motionless as if someone was going to kill him right then and there. However, he waited. He waited until My sister and I were at the place we loved, a place he knew we would be safe and a place where in all of our hearts, we knew he would be there. It hurt me afterward to think of how scared he was. Maybe it's not something you think about when you're lying on the hospital bed. Maybe you don't wonder if you're going to die or not and maybe it doesn't matter because you're too preoccupied trying to keep a smile on your face for the guests who visit you. Sparing the details i wanted nothing more than to have my father back, knowing i was lost without him.

A lot of my life is based on my father , as i've never met anyone like him. We shared many qualities and many laughs. When he was hurting, i was hurting. I was always there for my father trying to return the favors for when he was there for me. Not once was he never there for me ; he was always there. Perhaps that's why it scares me so much to live without him and it scares me to forget.





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